Spring Break in Bangalor
by Allasrya
Summary: Jessie is 19 now and is on Spring Break during her first year of college. Hadji invites her to Bangalor for the week. I have finally added a new chapter, and all other chapters have been revised to varying degrees.
1. Jessie's Arrival

**Spring Break in Bangalore**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Jessie Bannon stepped onto the airfield with her carry-on in one hand and her jacket in the other. It had been so cold when she'd left New York, but here in Bangalore, the breeze was hot against her skin. She smiled with pleasure and headed toward the Bangalore Airport complex. It was her first spring break since becoming a student at Columbia University, and she was ready to relax and spend a whole week not thinking about Early American Literature, Marine Biology, Calculus, Organic Chemistry or Political Science. _Nope, _she thought, _I am not going to think about school until I go back to New York and that's that._

She strode across the airfield and entered the building. She stood for a moment, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim fluorescent lighting. The large airport was quite busy, with travelers from many continents coming and going. Somehow, it was busier than Jessie had expected. She'd never actually been in here before today since every other time she had visited, it had been in the company of the Quests, and they had always taken Dr. Quest's private jet. This time she had come alone, and full of the power of her new independence, she'd chosen to pay for the ticket with her savings, as befitted the self-reliant woman she was now. She wasn't so self-reliant that she wanted to take a taxi to the palace, however, and she was pleased to see a uniformed man of average height holding a sign that had _Jessica Bannon_ printed on it in large black letters. Leave it to Hadji to leave nothing to chance. He was always so careful about everything he did. Even when they were children together, he had been the voice of reason, in direct contrast to Jonny's recklessness. Jessie approached the driver and introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm Jessica Bannon."

The brown-skinned man smiled and bowed. It was just a quick up-and-down movement, but felt a little strange to have someone bow to her. She supposed it was just something that royal servants did.

"What's your name?" She asked him.

"I am called Anand. Shall we get your suitcases?" Jessie nodded and went to the baggage claim with him. She located her two pieces of luggage fairly quickly. They were part of a set that matched her carry-on, and were made of rich burgundy leather with brass plates that had her initials engraved on them. Jessie's mother had given them to her as a going-away-to-college gift. Jessie had been touched by the symbolism of the gift. She felt that her mother was giving her permission to spread her wings and fly, and she loved her mother all the more for it.

"Please follow me, Miss Bannon," Anand said in heavily accented English.

Jessie did so and was mildly surprised when the man opened the door of a silver-grey limousine. It seemed a little ostentatious. Still, she supposed that a Sultan had to keep up appearances. The driver opened the door for her and she slid inside. On the seat next to her was a cream-colored envelope with her name on it. She opened it and read the note inside:

_Dear Jessie,_

_I regret that I am not able to greet you this morning. I have a meeting with my advisors than cannot be postponed; however, I look forward to seeing you this evening at dinner._

_Until then, _

_Hadji_

Jessie put the slip of paper back into the envelope and tucked it into her coat pocket, and then she settled back into the smooth black leather seats of the automobile. _I wonder what the meeting is about, _she thought. "Not that it's any of my business," she mumbled to herself. Outside the car, Anand had finished putting Jessie's bags into the trunk and closed it. He got into the driver's seat and they were on their way.

The drive took about forty-five minutes because of the horrible traffic in the city. Once they were on the open road, though, it was a fairly easy drive. Worn out from the twenty-two hour flight and lulled by the motion of the car, Jessie dozed.

Jessie awakened when the car slowed and stopped. She ran her fingers through her long red hair quickly, and then stepped out of the car when Anand opened the door for her. They were in front of Hadji's palace. Hadji's mother Neela was waiting on the steps with a welcoming smile on her face. The older woman made a lovely picture, framed as she was by the elaborately filigreed archway of the main entrance. She was wearing a mauve sari trimmed in gold, and her silver-touched black hair was pulled into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. Jessie was excited to see her. It had been more than a year since she had been here, and she was glad to be back. She had always found Hadji's home, palace that it was, to be a relaxing place. _And that is exactly why I am here, _she reminded herself once again.

Jessie raced up the steps and embraced Neela tightly. Neela returned the hug happily. Both women drew back, smiling widely at each other, and then both began to talk at once.

"How are y--" Jessie began. "I am so pleased to--" Neela started to say. They laughed and Neela signaled Jessie to go first as she led the young woman inside.

"How are you? I haven't seen you in so long!" Jessie exclaimed.

"I am well, as you see," said Neela serenely, "and I am very pleased to see you. How is school?"

"Alright. I'm learning a lot. I'm glad to have this break, though."

The women caught up on family news as Neela took Jessie through the palace to her room. Anand followed behind them with Jessie's bags. Finally, Neela stopped and opened a door, then beckoned Jessie inside.

The room was beautifully decorated in traditional Indian style. The bed was a huge, lavishly carved creation draped with brightly colored silk hangings that made the snow-white mosquito netting seem to glow. It dominated the room. There were thick carpets covering the wooden floor, and the heavy brocade curtains at the tall windows were pulled back to let in the sunlight. The room also contained a wardrobe that was carved in the same manner as the bed, a long, low, wooden bench piled with rainbow-hued pillows, and a variety of potted plants.

Neela opened a door that led to a large, fully-appointed private bathroom. "I hope you have everything that you need, Jessie. If you do not, please do not hesitate to ask one of the servants. I will let you rest now. You will be informed when it is time for supper." The older woman smiled again. "Wear something pretty."

Jessie blushed a little, but all she said was, "Thank you, Neela." Left to herself, Jessie took a quick shower, then collapsed upon the big, soft bed and slept.

When the servant woman had come to rouse her for dinner, Jessie had been awake for a couple of hours and had killed time reading a novel she'd started on her flight. Now she'd made up her face and done her hair, but she kept changing her mind about what she was going to wear. She was standing in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom, trying to decide between the forest-green silk sheath dress that showed her slender figure to advantage and the short black dress that made her legs look really good. Jessie had just determined that the green silk was her best choice when someone knocked on the bedroom door.

She glanced at the clock, realizing she only had five minutes before dinner. She pulled the sheath over her head, being careful not to mess up her hair, and called out, "I'll be right there!" After a brief moment of fumbling and only a small amount of contortion, she managed to close the zipper at the back of her dress, then she slid her stocking-clad feet into high-heeled black pumps. After one quick glance in the mirror to be sure she looked presentable, she opened the bedroom door. Waiting for her was not the servant woman from two hours ago, but the Sultan himself. _Hadji!_

Author's Note: This is my first TRAJQ fanfic. I hope you will forgive me for any OOCness you will encounter because it has been a long time since I've seen this show. If you enjoy the story, please review it. I would love to hear form you. Of course, constructive criticism is always welcome, as I am always trying to improve my writing. Thanks for reading this!

Author's Second Note: I am finally picking this story up again after about two years. I apologize to all of you who have been waiting for me to complete it. When I began to write, I had intended for this tale to have only seven chapters, one for each day of Jessie's week, but before I knew it, the story got away from me and took on a life of its own. I should have known that anything involving any of the members of the Quest clan would soon begin to go awry. Nothing can be simple for them! At first it was okay, but then I started having some health problems which were eventually resolved, only to be followed by a difficult pregnancy (the result of which was a sometimes difficult but always beloved little boy) followed by yet more health problems that culminated in surgery. I just had too much going on to sit down and write for my own pleasure, but I never forgot the story. Now that I'm beginning to feel better, and more in control of my life, I'm hoping that the time I spent mulling over the adventures and intrigue I plan to include here may have helped make the story a better one than it might otherwise have been. I leave it to you to decide.

I would also like to send out a huge thank you to my test readers, Palin 1 and Alta. I can't begin to express the extent of my appreciation for all the comments, advice, and yes, even the criticism they offered which allowed me to refine this story to the extent that I have. I'd also like to thank them for all the moral support that has convinced me to keep going with it!


	2. Face to Face

**Chapter Two: Face-to-Face**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Please note: Dialogue marked by angle brackets indicate that a character is speaking in Hindi.

Hadji's breath caught in his chest as he recognized the woman who stood before him. He had been expecting Jessie, the high school senior. The woman who stood before him now was not the girl who had wrestled with Bandit on the living room floor in Maine two Christmases ago. She had changed so much in only a year and a half!

Her shining red hair was longer and waved down to her waist. The formfitting dress she wore, made of raw silk, he guessed, revealed the curve of her hips, her slender waist, and the fullness of her— He stopped himself and raised his eyes quickly to her face. She was wearing cosmetics, he noted with surprise. For as long as Hadji had known her, Jessie had always been a minimalist where make-up was concerned: she'd never seen the need for more than a swipe of lip balm for even the dressiest of occasions. Apparently that had changed, for now, with smoky color on her lids and mascara darkening her lashes, her green eyes seemed deep and mysterious. Her full lips were slicked with a gloss the color of ripe berries, and they glistened in a way that drew his eyes straight to them.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, and then realized what a stupid question that was. "I mean—I thought Madhu was coming to get me."

Hadji smiled at her, relieved that the tension had been broken. "I have wanted to talk to you all day! I thought that escorting you to dinner would give me a reason to see you sooner."

Jessie stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. She suddenly felt very awkward. Hadji was still Hadji, but the way he had gazed at her was unlike him. She wanted to hug him, but somehow it felt…strange. She felt stranger still when he took her arm and tucked it beneath his own to lead her through the palace to the dining room. Still, she managed to respond naturally to his inquiries about her flight and what was going on at home and at school. They spoke on the phone two or three times each month, but that was entirely different from talking to him face-to-face after all this time.

Hadji stopped before a particular door and the servant who stood before it bowed as he opened the door for the Sultan. Hadji released Jessie's arm and gallantly bowed her into the room before him. She entered to see Neela sharing a low, white-and-gold sofa with a lovely young woman in a pale pink gown. A couple of men, one young and one middle-aged, sat in matching white brocade armchairs which were set at angles to the sofa.

Neela stood when Jessie came into the room. She was dressed in a sari that was much more elaborate than the one she'd been wearing that afternoon. It was dyed the colors of the sunset and was heavily embroidered with gold thread. Hadji's mother also wore many gold bracelets on her arms, and they jingled musically as she moved. "Dear Jessie," she said warmly, "I hope you are well rested."

Hadji entered the room behind Jessie. As he did so, the other three people in the room stood. The Sultan greeted his mother, and then introduced Jessie to the others. The older man was Vasudev Hiranya, head of the Ministry of Natural Resources and Hadji's Primary Advisor. He bowed to Jessie politely and gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. The younger man was the Minister's son, Tungesh. He was standing close enough to Jessie to shake her hand, but to her surprise, when he took her hand, he brought it to his lips instead, glancing up at her to see her reaction. Jessie was put off by this, for Tungesh was only about sixteen years old! He was too young to go around kissing women's hands as far as Jessie was concerned. The young woman was Hiranmayi, the Minister's daughter. She was an actress in a popular Indian television program. Hiranmayi inclined her head toward Jessie but did not make eye contact with her.

Another pair of servants opened the doors to the dining room, and Hadji took Jessie's arm once again. Neela walked behind them, accompanied by Minister Hiranya, and the two siblings followed last. Hadji took his place at the head of the table, and Neela sat at its foot. The Minister was placed at her right, and Tungesh sat at her left. Jessie was seated at Hadji's right while Hiranmayi sat at his left. _Well,_ thought Jessie as she looked around the boy-girl-boy-girl arrangement_, this worked out pretty well. I bet Neela had this all planned out as soon as she found out I was coming_.

Jessie felt like she was at a restaurant. The delicious food, served in individual covered dishes, was French cuisine, rather than Indian. Neela was an excellent hostess and kept the conversation light and general. Jessie tried to stay focused on what everyone was saying, but she found her gaze drawn again and again to Hadji.

She'd always thought he was good-looking, but he'd never looked better to her than he did at that moment. He was dressed in ivory trousers and a navy blue coat trimmed with gold braid and buttons. He also wore an ivory turban accented with the ruby brooch that Jessie knew had belonged to his father. His smooth, golden-brown skin seemed to glow in the warm light cast by the wall sconces. With high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a sculpted mouth, his handsome face was a symphony of masculine beauty. All of these elements combined to make Hadji truly look like the prince that he was.

"Miss Bannon?"

Jessie snapped back to reality to see that everyone was looking at her oddly, with the exception of Neela, who had a gentle smile on her face.

"Jessie," Hadji's mother began, "Tungesh was asking you about your education."

Jessie shifted her gaze to the young man, noting that dark-eyed Hiranmayi was staring at her intently from across the table. _Hurry, and think of an excuse_, she told herself. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hiranya. I'm afraid I'm still a little worn out from the long flight. What did you say?"

"Think nothing of it, Miss Bannon. I was merely curious to know which field of study you are focusing on."

She smiled at him. "I haven't decided yet between Biochemical Research and Marine Biology, but I'm leaning toward Marine Biology. And please, all of you call me Jessie."

The young man's face lit up, and with that charismatic smile on his face, he looked almost like a brown-eyed, black-haired version of Jonny. "And you may call me Tungesh," he invited.

The conversation quickly turned to marine conservation and from there to environmental problems faced by both India and the U.S. Now that they were talking about a subject that was dear to her heart, Jessie was able to get through the rest of dinner without another embarrassing incident.

After dinner, everyone returned to the sitting room for coffee and even more conversation. The room was beautifully decorated with red-painted walls and plenty of gilt-and-brocade furniture. A golden statue of Ganesh, the Elephant God, dominated one corner of the room. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and cast soft light throughout the room.

Jessie sat beside Neela on one of the two sofas. Tungesh sat next to his sister on the sofa opposite the two women while Hadji and the minister took the two chairs. In the area between the two couches, a low gilt table held and arrangement of white lilies. Their delicate fragrance was just barely noticeable in the air.

Jessie was determined to talk to Minister Hiranya's gorgeous, raven-haired daughter, who'd said next to nothing the entire evening. "How long have you been acting, Miss Hiranya?"

Hiranmayi smiled with pleasure. "I have been a member of this program's cast since I was fourteen, but I began acting in television commercials when I was seven years old. So, it has been about ten years."

"It must be hard work. Do you ever have trouble memorizing your lines?"

"The job can be difficult because we often work long hours, but we do not film with an audience, so we only have to memorize a few scenes at a time. I am hoping to have the opportunity to appear in a film soon. I went to an audi—"

"Hiranmayi, that is enough," Minister Hiranya cut in. "You do not want to bore the Sultan or his _guest_." His emphasis on the last word was slight but noticeable.

"But she's not," Jessie protested. She turned to Hiranmayi, who was now looking at her hands in her lap. "I would enjoy hearing more—"

The minister raised his eyebrows, wearing an expression bordering on disdain and smiling unconvincingly. "No, no, Miss Bannon. I am _certain_ you are just being polite."

Jessie could not keep the frown from her face, but it appeared only briefly. Neela, accomplished hostess that she was, quickly filled the following silence with vague speculation about the next day's weather. Jessie endured another fifteen minutes of stilted conversation in which Hiranmayi took no part, and then she decided she'd had enough.

"Please excuse me. I'm afraid I'm still feeling the effects of my flight. I'll say goodnight now." When she stood, Neela did as well.

"I believe I shall also retire," the older woman declared. "Good night, my son. Good night, Minister, Tungesh, Hiranmayi." She inclined her head to each in turn, and then turned to Jessie. "Let me take you to your room. It is so easy to get lost in this place, and you have not been here in so long." Neela exited through the door opened for her by a servant, and Jessie followed her.

Hadji thoughtfully watched Jessie leave the room. He had seen the frown flit across her face and was impressed that she had not called Minister Hiranya on his rather rude behavior. There were times when she could be as reckless as Jonny was, although Hadji knew that his adopted brother was usually the instigator of most of the scrapes the pair ended up in. She had certainly matured this last year or so. He wasn't sure he was prepared to see her as a grown woman, but it was apparent that he was going to have to adjust. He'd wanted to talk with her more, but now he supposed he would have to wait until tomorrow.

The minister cleared his throat, and Hadji turned to look at him. My pardons, Sultan, Minister Hiranya said in Hindi, but perhaps it is best if my children and I took our leave as well. 

Of course, Hadji replied smoothly in the same language. I know you must have things to do. Let me escort you outside. He waited with the trio while their car was brought around, then he bid them good night. As he watched their vehicle go down the drive, he breathed a small sigh of relief. He did not especially like Minister Hiranya, but the man was the best at what he did, and he truly loved Bangalore. Hadji knew the older man would do everything in his power to ensure the region's continued prosperity.

As the Sultan turned to go back inside, a sudden movement caught his eye. He looked up to see Jessie on her third-story balcony watching the minister's car drive away form the palace. He could not see her face from so far away, but he saw her shake her head before moving back into her room. It appeared that she had not seen him, and he felt a sudden urge to call her back out. _No, _he told himself. _She said she was tired. There will be time to talk tomorrow._ As he entered the palace, the guards closed the doors behind him, and an odd thought crossed his mind: _How can a man who is surrounded by so many people feel lonely?_

Up in her room, a barefoot Jessie paced back and forth. Her red hair bounced behind her from the force of her steps. She wasn't tired in the least; she had only used that as an excuse to remove herself from the presence of Hadji's primary advisor. "That jerk!" She muttered to herself. "How would he know whether or not I was only being polite? And in that condescending tone, too! How dare he speak to Hiranmayi in that way? I don't care if he _is _her father!"

She continued to pace as she recalled the conversation she'd had with Neela as they'd walked to Jessie's room.

begin flashback

"Do not worry about the minister, Jessie," Neela had told her. "He is known to have extremely conservative views toward women, although he was not so strict before his wife died two years ago. It was through her intervention that Hiranmayi was able to begin working as an actress. Now that she is seventeen, I believe he wants her to end her career and become a wife and mother."

"But she's only seventeen! I'm older than she is, and I _know _that _I'm_ too young to get married! Besides, what makes him think that she can't have a career _and_ a family?"

"I understand, Jessie, but that is the way he feels. It is still the custom here in India for a young woman to do as her father wishes, even when those wishes do not coincide with her own." She'd paused to look at Jessie as they walked. "I believe he is hoping that she will become the next Sultana of Bangalore."

When Neela had said that, Jessie had felt the heat of the anger that marked her cheeks spread to her whole face. "What?" Jessie had practically shouted, then controlled herself and lowered her voice. "Hadji is too young to get married, too! He's only a year older than I am."

"He is young, but he is a man. He has a great deal of power but bears a heavy burden because of it. He needs someone with whom he can share these things." Upon seeing that they had reached Jessie's room, the older woman stopped and gave her a hug as she bid Jessie goodnight. Jessie had returned the hug distractedly with a murmured, "good night," then she'd turned and entered her room.

end flashback

Jessie suddenly stopped pacing as a thought hit her with all the force of a cannonball. _Does Neela want me and Hadji to get together? _"No way!" She exclaimed. _Okay, Neela knew I had a crush on Hadji a few years ago after that incident with Anaya Zin, but that was so long ago. I'm over it now…_ She remembered how handsome he'd looked tonight and amended her thoughts_ …well, mostly. _She began pacing again. _It doesn't matter, though. He's always been oblivious to me as a woman. He always goes for tall, dark-haired women. I'm just a short, carrot-topped—_"Now I'm just depressing myself. There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way I look," she told herself firmly.

She turned when she heard the sound of a motor and stepped onto the balcony to see the minister's car driving away. She watched it until she couldn't see it anymore, then shook her head in disgust. _Poor girl. To have father like that--! _She suddenly missed her own father, and as she went back inside, she decided that since it was after eight o'clock in the morning in the States, it wasn't too early to call him, so she proceeded to do exactly that.

By eleven o'clock Bangalore time, Jessie had pretty much given up on going to sleep. She'd spoken to her father and Dr. Quest (Jonny had already left for school), taken a shower, and finished the novel she'd been reading. Finally, she decided to take a walk on the off chance that it might help make her sleepy. Dressed in hot pink flip-flops, yellow Scooby-Doo pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt decorated with the Star Wars logo, she headed downstairs to the palace's large courtyard. The hallways here were dim and a little spooky, but there were palace guards posted here and there, so she knew she was safe. Once outside, she wandered along the garden paths and was surrounded by the perfume of the night-blooming jasmine as she observed the shapes and shadows of the different flowers and trees and basked in the glow of the full moon.

Hadji stood up and tossed the proposal he'd been reading onto his desk. He glanced at he clock on the wall and saw that it was a little after eleven p.m. All the proposals and bills, written in the dry, convoluted language of lawyers, were starting to turn his brain inside out. He was ready for a break. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, then decided to take a walk in the courtyard garden.

Stepping outside, he immediately saw Jessie. A jolt of pleasure ran through him. She was crouching down by some kind of flowering bush, looking closely at one of the blooms. Feeling suddenly playful, he walked over to her as quietly as he could. He hoped the sound of the falling water from the many fountains in the courtyard would cover the sound of his footsteps. Intent as she was on her examination of the night-dark blossom, she didn't notice he was there until he spoke.

"If you like it that much, it is yours," he said from behind her.

Jessie yelped and tipped over but was kept from hitting the ground by Hadji's quick reflexes. "That wasn't funny," she huffed as he helped her to her feet.

"That depends entirely upon where you are standing," he replied with a grin.

"Or falling down," she retorted. She held up the flower she'd been looking at. It had broken off the stem during her almost-fall and now rested, slightly squashed, in her cupped hands. "I was only trying to figure out what color it would be in the daytime."

He took it from her and, on impulse, tucked it into her hair, just behind her left ear. She stood with her face turned to look up at him, and his stomach tightened. The light of the full moon gave a blue cast to her pale skin and made her hair look very dark. She looked to him like a blue-skinned goddess from Indian mythology, and he wanted to touch her to make sure she was real…

…so he did.

Hadji cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to capture her mouth with his. Her body tensed, and it suddenly occurred to him what he was doing, and to whom. He released her, and they both took a couple of steps away from each other.

"Jessie—I—I am so sorry…" he faltered.

Jessie stared at him as she touched her lips with her fingertips. He wished he were the one touching her mouth instead.

"Don't apologize," she murmured. "That was just a little…unexpected." She turned away from him and began walking toward one of the entrances. "I'll go back…"

He reached out and caught her hand. "Please do not go—I would like to talk to you for a while. Really—just talk." _Just do not leave me alone right now_, he thought desperately.

She turned back to him with an enigmatic smile on her face. "Okay."

Relieved, Hadji led her toward one of the mosaic-inlaid benched that protruded from one of the garden's walls. "Besides," he teased as he pulled her gently along, "you were heading in the opposite direction you would need to go to get to your room…"

Author's Notes: I hope you find this chapter a little more interesting. I know I haven't had much action yet, but I love the characters so much that I really wanted to get everything set up before I start tearing them down again…Was that a spoiler? I don't know yet! ;

! Thank You! To Palin 1, Chihuahua, and Echo for their reviews and encouragement. I would love to hear from more of the readers out there. Even if you don't like it, tell me why…

Let me know if you like the slightly predictable romantic cheesiness at the end here. We all know what a smooth operator Hadji is. I mean, come on, he's gone from "stranger" to "true love" in only one episode on more than one occasion. If you don't like it, I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, and neither could Jessie or Hadji, so I thought I would give them something to do to entertain me. Blame them; it was all their idea… ;-) It's 2 a.m. (1 p.m. Bangalore time) and I am going to bed.

P.S. This website has some interesting tidbits about Bangalore, just in case you were wondering how I know what time it is in Bangalore right 


	3. Tomorrow

**Chapter Three: Tomorrow**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Jessie and Hadji talked all through the night, although it was more like Hadji talked and Jessie listened. Once the young sultan got started, he couldn't seem to stop. He told Jessie of the work he was doing to repair the damage that had been inflicted on Bangalore by his uncle and cousin. He felt as though each time he resolved one problem, two more were discovered. He described his daily struggles as the mediator between the ministers of the various government agencies in Bangalore. He had recently appointed a woman as head of the Ministry of Women's and Children's Services, and a few of his very conservative advisors were upset about it. Hadji truly felt that she was qualified for the job, and he saw no reason why women should not hold government positions, but it was difficult to convince the traditionalists. He spoke of the trouble he had sleeping many nights; his bouts of insomnia were becoming more frequent. He couldn't concentrate well enough lately to meditate. Most of all, Hadji talked about his feelings of isolation. Even though he was surrounded by people, he felt as though none of them truly knew who he was. Even his mother, whom he'd grown to love dearly, had missed thirteen of the twenty years of his life. He had a hard time dealing with the fact that he felt so close to her sometimes, but at other times she would be surprised to learn something as inconsequential as the fact that his favorite color was purple. He missed his adopted family every day, but felt his responsibility to Bangalore so strongly that he did not feel like he could visit the Quest compound as often as he would like. That was why it had been so long since he'd traveled to the States, and he was beginning to feel distanced from the family he'd grown up with.

"I just feel so overwhelmed. I am afraid that Hadji is disappearing, and soon only the Sultan of Bangalore will live in this body." He held Jessie a little tighter against him. Somehow during the night, they had gone from facing each other from opposite ends of the bench to sitting side-by-side in the middle. When he'd felt her shivering in the pre-dawn chill, he'd insisted she take the velvet coat he'd been wearing at dinner. If he felt cold wearing only an ivory silk shirt with his linen trousers, he didn't show it.

"You need to have some fun, Hadj," Jessie finally commented. "You can't spend your whole life working." She snuggled up to him a little, her eyes closed.

He pressed the side of his face to the top of her head, observing that her hair smelled faintly of oranges. "That is what my mother said also."

"She loves you. You should listen to her," Jessie replied.

"Yes." He was quiet for a moment then asked her, "What would you like to do while you are here? I arranged my schedule so that we could spend time together. I cannot leave work completely this week, but I do not want you to feel neglected while you are visiting."

"I wouldn't feel neglected, Hadji. I know you have a lot of responsibilities. However, since you made the time…can we go shopping tomorrow? I'd love to go to the marketplace."

"Of course." Hadji smiled, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "Although I think you mean today--The sun is beginning to rise. Look."

Jessie raised her head, and sure enough, the sky was just turning golden in the east. A few wispy clouds turned pink as she watched. "Hmmm…I'm not really sleepy—it's probably only about five p.m. at home. But you must be tired…"

Hadji stood and stretched. "Yes, a little, but I feel so much better now. My heart feels lighter." Jessie had remained seated, so he crouched down before her and took both of her hands in his. "Thank you for listening to my troubles, Jessie. It means so much to me."

Jessie gave him a gentle smile. "What are friends for, Hadji? I was glad to do it, and I'll do it again, anytime you ask me to."

He tugged on her hand and she stood. They walked hand-in-hand into the palace, oblivious to the sidelong looks a few less discreet servants cast their way. As they neared Jessie's room, they ran into Neela, who was always an early riser. The older woman smiled at them, apparently unperturbed by the scene before her: Jessie was wearing Hadji's jacket and had a wilted magenta hibiscus blossom behind one ear. Hadji was holding Jessie's hand and did not bother to release it, even as Jessie blushed and tried to let go.

"Good morning. I was coming to see if Jessie wanted to go for a walk with me, but I can see that you have anticipated me, Hadji." She patted Jessie's cheek. "Perhaps another time." She continued down the hallway and did not look back.

"Well," began Jessie, "you should probably get some sleep."

"If you are not feeling sleepy, would you like to leave here about nine o'clock? The shops actually open about now, but I could use a couple of hours of sleep and perhaps breakfast."

"Are you sure that'll be enough rest for you? I mean—"

"I am sure, Jessie. I must meet with some of my ministers this afternoon. I would like to have some of that fun we agreed I need before I have to deal with them." He smiled at her affectionately, and she beamed at him in return.

"Okay! Meet you at nine at the front door?"

"I will be there." He waited until she was inside her room, then went to his own chambers. He slept deeply and dreamlessly for the first time in months.

Jessie hurried down to the entrance hall later that morning, determined to be there at nine sharp. Since she knew they were going to be doing a lot of walking, she had dressed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and comfortable oxfords, put her hair in a French braid, and slathered herself with sunscreen. When she got into the hall, she came to a dead stop. Hadji was dressed the way he used to when they'd all live together in Maine: jeans, a Henley-style shirt that had been washed so many times it was now a soft purple-grey color, and black sneakers; however, what had floored her was that _he wasn't wearing a turban_! Instead, his long black hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and on his head was a black baseball cap embroidered with a silver 'Q'.

"Wow…no turban?" she inquired. She could count the number of times she had seen him go out of the house without a turban (not counting going swimming) on one hand.

Hadji grinned at her. "I am too recognizable in a turban. Today I am Hadji the Tourist."

Jessie laughed. "Cool. So where'd you get the hat?"

"Jonny left it here when he and Dad came to visit last summer. I will give it back to him the next time I see him."

"Nah," said Jessie. "You should keep it—it looks good on you."

Hadji only smiled and ushered her out the door. Parked outside was a metallic red Mazda RX-8. The Sultan opened the door for her to get in, and then slid into the driver's seat. As they drove away, Jessie commented, "I'm impressed. This looks like a car my dad would drive."

"Race is the one who suggested I buy it," Hadji replied mildly as he shifted gears, "although I do not get to drive it as often as I would like." They continued to chat idly as they sped down the road. Upon reaching the city, the young man had to slow down considerably. The traffic was just as horrible as Jessie remembered. Cars and motorcycles fought for space on streets that were teeming with pedestrians, bicyclists, carts pulled by various beasts of burden, and the occasional ribbon-and-flower bedecked sacred cow.

Finally, Hadji found a place to park on a shop-lined street called M. G. Road, and as they got out of the car, the odors of exhaust and manure that had only faintly wisped into the car through the air-conditioning vents hit Jessie full-force. She couldn't help wrinkling up her nose for just a second, which made Hadji laugh. "Welcome to downtown Bangalore!" He teased.

Jessie looked around at the asphalt-covered street filled with so many people. Most of them were Indian, of course, but she could see quite a few others who were obviously of European descent. There were no broad thoroughfares here as there were in places like Paris and New York, and one tree-lined street looked much like the next as far as she could see. It was mid-morning, but it was already warm, even in the shade of the trees whose branches reached out into the street. Most of the buildings were only two or three stories high, and they seemed to be crowded together in much the same way that the people on the street were. She caught snips of the conversations of passersby and heard English words and phrases interspersed with the musical sound of people speaking their native tongue. Nearly every sign she saw appeared to be written in at least two, and sometimes three, languages.

She asked Hadji about it, and he said, "You probably know that the official languages of India are Hindi and English." When she nodded, he continued, "Well, those languages were decided upon by the British during the colonial occupation. Every state actually has its own official language that the majority of its inhabitants speak, and Hindi is not as commonly spoken as one might think. Here in Bangalore, in Karnataka, most people speak Kannada. It's quite different from Hindi, and it even has its own alphabet. Most vendors post their signs in at least one of the official languages, and often use all of them."

"I don't think I've ever heard of Kannada. So you speak that, too?"

Hadji shook his head. "Not particularly well. I had no reason to speak it for so many years that I have forgotten nearly all of what I spoke as a child. When I lived in Calcutta with Pasha, he only knew how to speak Hindi and English, and I became rather fluent in Bengali while I roamed the streets there, but I have always been a slightly ashamed that I cannot speak the language of my parents—and my subjects—very well. My mother has been teaching me, but I still feel awkward when I have to use it, so I tend to use English or Hindi whenever I can. I suppose I am fortunate that nearly all of the people I meet with on a regular basis speak at least Hindi fluently."

"Wow. You never told me any of this before."

"It just never came up during our conversations, I suppose."

"I suppose not." Jessie bit her lip thoughtfully, then shrugged. "I guess it just goes to prove how hard it is to know everything about someone, even a close friend."

They strolled up and down the narrow, crowded streets for about an hour and a half, looking into the windows of shops that sold anything from saris of every imaginable color, to musical instruments both Eastern and Western, to American jeans, to any kind of appliance a person might ever need. There were lots of chain restaurants like McDonald's and Starbucks to be seen, and Hadji mentioned that there were several large malls in town, as well, but she wasn't interested in seeing any of them. Instead, Hadji followed Jessie as she poked around in a spice shop full of dusty, aromatic smells, and waited while she tried on several pairs of sandals before deciding that she really didn't need another pair of shoes. He stopped to buy a custard apple from a fruit vendor when she wondered out loud about what the scaly-looking green things were.

Jessie was a little hesitant about trying the alien-looking fruit, but Hadji, who had pulled out his pocket knife to cut the fruit, grinned at the slightly dubious look on her face and said, "I promise that it's safe, Jessie. My mother likes these very much, so we often have them for breakfast." As he split the green skin to reveal the white flesh inside, he commented, "I am rather surprised that you have not yet tasted one." He offered her a wedge of creamy fruit dotted with shiny black seeds, and when she tasted it, she was both surprised and delighted at the smooth texture and vaguely banana-like flavor of it.

The two of them walked along in companionable silence as they shared the custard apple and watched the crowds of people going to and fro, primarily on foot and motorcycle, before ending up inside a shop that sold statues of Hindu deities. Hadji pointed out a bronze statue of a man and a woman standing side-by-side, telling Jessie it was a representation of the god Krishna and his human lover, the cow maid, Radha. "She abandoned her earthly responsibilities—including her parents and her husband—for love of Krishna," he explained. "Their union is symbolic of the relationship between the spiritual and the physical." He leaned down a bit as he translated the Hindi inscription at the base of the statue for her. "'Heart is the symbol of Love. Love is Truth. Love is Power. Love is God. To love God is to love man and to love man is to worship God.'" The Sultan raised his head and looked into Jessie's emerald green eyes. "One cannot exist without the other, just as man cannot exist without woman."

Jessie tore her gaze from his and focused on the statue instead. "I had forgotten how deep you sometimes are, Hadj." She let out a little laugh, but it sounded nervous, even to her.

To relieve the tension between them, Hadji tugged on the end of her braid as he said, "I am ever the epitome of depth, my friend." She laughed again, more naturally this time, and Hadji was pleased.

"I have always loved the stories about Krishna and Radha," said a feminine voice from behind the two friends. "They are all so romantic."

Jessie and Hadji turned to see Hiranmayi and Tungesh standing behind them, apparently admiring the same statue that Jess and Hadji had just been discussing. The minister's lovely daughter was wearing a pale green cotton salwar kamis and she had accented it with a floral patterned scarf. Her hip-length black hair hung in a thick braid down her back, and she wore many bracelets on both arms. Her brother was dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt with short sleeves, and he was bareheaded, just as he had been the previous night. They both bowed to Hadji when he turned around.

"Please do not bow," the young man said quietly as the pair straightened. "I do not wish to attract attention," he explained to Hiranmayi, who was staring at the baseball cap he was wearing.

"Hi," said Jessie. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Hiranmayi is shopping, and Father made me come with her," Tungesh complained as he rolled his eyes. Then he grinned broadly in Jessie's direction. "Now, however, I am glad that I came."

"It is still early," said Hiranmayi in her musical voice. "Perhaps we can all go somewhere to have a drink?"

"We passed a chai house on our way here," Tungesh offered. "Let us go there."

"Yes, let us do so," Hadji concurred, although he did not look especially happy about the suggestion. He looked even less pleased when Tungesh took Jessie's arm hastily, but he said nothing. Instead, he politely offered his arm to Hiranmayi, who took it with a little smile.

With Tungesh and Jessie in the lead, the foursome walked down the busy street and waited at the corner for a gap in the traffic. After a couple of minutes, they could see the beginning of a wedding procession coming down the street and hear the musicians playing drums and chimes.

"We must go now," urged Tungesh, or we will be forced to wait for an hour or more!" Without waiting to see if Hadji and Hiranmayi were following, he hurried Jessie across the street. Jessie tried to protest, but Tungesh only tightened his hold on her upper arm and shouted, "Hurry, or we will be run over!" Once they were on the other side of the street, Jessie turned to see that Hadji and Hiranmayi had not crossed. Instead, her friend was helping the young actress to her feet. It appeared that she had tripped just before stepping out into the street, forcing them to stay on the other side. _At least she didn't fall in the street,_ thought Jessie with relief. The procession's musicians began to pass in front of them, and Jessie lost sight of Hadji and Hiranmayi. She turned back to Tungesh, who was frowning in irritation.

"Wonderful. Now we will have to wait here," he complained.

_I'm really starting to not like this guy,_ reflected Jessie. "I don't mind," she demurred. "I'd actually like to watch it, since we have to wait now, anyway. I've never seen a Hindu wedding procession before."

Tungesh cast a dark look her way but said nothing, only folded his arms against his chest. He basically ignored her while the wedding passed by, but that was fine with Jessie, since it meant she didn't have to be polite to someone she was beginning to dislike.

The procession actually took about half an hour to pass, and Jessie enjoyed it, although she wished she could have watched it with Hadji. He would have been willing to answer her questions, unlike the silent teenager beside her. Finally, when the last of the spectacle's followers had passed, Jessie looked across the street, only to see that Hadji and Hiranmayi were no longer on the opposite corner.

_Uh-oh_, said the little voice in the back of Jessie's mind. "They aren't there!" she exclaimed. _Duh_, said that same voice sarcastically.

"They probably tried to avoid the procession by going around the block," Tungesh suggested. "We should go the other way and try to intercept them."

"We should stay here," countered Jessie. "The best thing to do when you're lost is to stay in one place."

"I am not lost—"the young man protested, but Jessie interrupted him.

"What am I thinking?" She asked herself aloud as she began to dig in her shoulder bag. "Aha!" She pulled out her cell phone. "I can just _call _Ha—"

Tungesh lurched into her, apparently shoved by someone on the crowded sidewalk. He slammed into her arm and her phone went flying out of her hand and into the street, directly under the hooves of a bull. Jessie cringed as the bovine stepped on it. As if that weren't bad enough, the wooden cart the bull was pulling ran over the phone as well. When the cart passed, Jessie was infuriated to see what used to be her expensive, color-display cell phone with worldwide calling capabilities in bits and pieces on the street. She yelled at the animal, "You stupid son of a heifer, I oughta make hamburgers out of you! I don't care if you _are_ holy!"

The cart driver turned around and gave her a dirty look, and Jessie clapped a hand over her mouth as she realized what she'd said—at the top of her lungs—in India. _It's just a cell phone, Jessie. Calm down!_

Beside her, Tungesh was laughing hard. "I hate cows," he said once he'd calmed down.

"I'm beginning to," muttered Jessie.

"Well, shall we continue?" Tungesh asked. He did not wait for her answer but simply began striding away.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"I am not going to linger here hoping that the Sultan and my sister will find us. We do not have all day. I must have my sister home by two or my father will be angry with me. If I do not leave here within an hour, I will never make it home on time." He slanted a disgusted look at her. "Does that answer your question?"

"What's your problem?" Jessie demanded, marching after him.

"My problem is that I have to deal with a woman who dresses like as a man, does not behave as a well-bred woman should, and asks far too many questions of a man whom she should obey _without_ question!" he threw over his shoulder as he walked.

Jessie was outraged. "How dare you? I can't believe you just said that!" Her cheeks were red with anger as she stormed after him. "I'm not the one who insisted on walking with you! I'm not the one who dragged you across the street!" People were staring at her, but she was too furious to care. She continued to rant, and he continued to walk as quickly as possible away from her, until they were both almost running.

Without warning, something hard slammed into Jessie from behind, and she fell to the ground onto her hands and knees. She heard a soft click and made a desperate grab for her bag as it was pulled away from her. The man who'd knocked her down and cut her purse strap ran past her, and she scrambled to her feet in time to see him hop on the back of a motorcycle apparently driven by an accomplice. She started to run after the thieves, but dodging the many people on the sidewalk slowed her down, and she finally gave up in disgust. She stopped where she was, and as she looked around, it dawned on her that she had no clue where she was. Worse, Tungesh was nowhere to be seen. She was alone on a side street in Bangalore, India with no cell phone, money, or identification. The little voice inside her head sneered, you're_ in trouble now…_

Author's Notes: Yay! Chapter Three is done…Hope you don't mind cliffhangers! Don't worry; Chapter Four is already brewing…

First of all, "!Thank You!" to Echo and Chihuahua, who reviewed Chapter Two, and an extra special Thanks to Echo for pointing out to me that people do change as they get older—one less thing to worry about!

The quote that Hadji reads from the statue: "The heart is the symbol…" is by Sri Swami Sivananda. I found the quote during my research for the story, and it just seemed so Hadji-ish that I had to put it in. Plus, I just liked the sentiment—it speaks to me. And the whole Krishna-Radha love story is pretty nice too, depending on which version you find.

A salwar kamis is a traditional Indian outfit worn by women, and it consists of trousers that fit tightly at hips and ankles (salwar) and a calf- or ankle-length dress or tunic with full- or ¾-length sleeves (kamis or kameej). It is very popular among the younger generations of Indian women because it is comfortable and practical. It is often worn with a scarf (chunni), which is used as a decoration or to cover one's head. If anyone wants the websites where I found my information, please email me and I will be glad to send them to you.

The Mazda RX-8 is _my_ dream car, although I'd rather have a pink one (do they come in pink?), so I thought it would be cool to let Hadji drive one around.

One last thing: I would like to recommend some of my favorite stories to everyone: The Quest Chronicles: Slayer by Chihuahua, The One and Only Jessie Bannon by Akane-Rei, and anything by Debbie Kluge. You can read all of these stories here on 


	4. The Search

**Chapter Four: The Search**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Please note: Dialogue marked by angle brackets indicate that a character is speaking in Hindi.

Hadji followed Hiranmayi into the Littlewoods department store so that she could tidy herself after her fall, then waited impatiently as she browsed through the displays of ladies' clothing.

We have time, the young woman insisted. You know how long those wedding processions always last. 

Just do not take too long, Hadji replied.

An hour later Hiranmayi and the Sultan emerged from the store to see that the procession had finished passing long before and that Tungesh and Jessie were nowhere in sight.

Perhaps they decided to go to the chai house to wait, suggested Hiranmayi. Hadji nodded, and they walked to the little café. Unfortunately, the people they were looking for were not there. They decided to wait, but after about twenty minutes, the Sultan began to feel uneasy. He did not trust the minister's son "as far as he could throw him," to use one of Race's sayings, and if anything happened to Jessie, Hadji knew that her father would never forgive him!

Hadji stood up. Let us return to the last place we saw them. It is possible that they have gone back there and are waiting for us to return. He and Hiranmayi left the chai house and headed back to the street corner where they had last seen Jessie standing. They ran into Tungesh about five minutes into the fifteen-minute walk.

Hadji was alarmed to see the minister's son standing alone on the sidewalk. Where is she? he asked without preamble. Tungesh hesitated, then launched into a convoluted story about how he'd lost her in the crowd as they'd searched for him and Hiranmayi. Hadji listened first with disbelief, then anger. How could you have "lost her in the crowd"? he demanded as he glared at the young man standing before him. In his mind, the Sultan saw an image of the pale-skinned, flame-haired woman standing alone in the midst of a throng of dark-haired, dark-skinned people. It is not as though she blends in! He squelched his rising fear and anger with a few cleansing breaths, but he could feel those sensations simmering just below the surface as his emotions did more and more often lately.

Hiranmayi was looking at Hadji with alarm, and he schooled his features into a less fierce expression, although a vertical crease was still visible between his dark eyebrows.

Tungesh took his sister's arm and said, My humble apologies, your Highness, but my father insisted that I have Hiranmayi home by two o'clock. We must leave now, or we will be late. 

Hadji glanced at his watch, which showed that it was about twenty minutes after one p.m. I request that you assist me in locating Jessie, he said tightly.

Tungesh colored a little and shifted his eyes to avoid Hadji's gaze. I am sorry—I cannot. He tugged on Hiranmayi's arm and led her away. The young actress looked back toward Hadji with a sad expression on her face. The Sultan returned her look impassively, interpreting her expression as guilt that she'd abandoned him to search for Jessie alone. After a moment, Hiranmayi faced forward once more.

Hadji pulled out his cell phone to try to contact Jessie yet again. He received the same response he had the last three times he'd tried to call her: a tinny recording of a female voice saying: "The person you are trying to reach is out of the service area or has turned off the phone. Please try again later, or leave a voicemail after the tone." He ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. He knew she had global service; all the members of the Quest team did. Why would she turn her phone off? For that matter, why hadn't she tried to call him?

_Inner calm,_ he told himself sternly. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth several times. _ Panicking will not help Jessie if she is, indeed, in need of help. You cannot cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water. _He decided to return to his car on the chance that she might be waiting for him there. Jessie was resourceful, and it was logical to assume that she would go back to the place she would be sure to encounter him. He turned on his heel and strode purposefully down the sidewalk. He had walked about three blocks when he spotted a flash of blue on top of a trash pile in the alleyway he was passing. Hadji walked over to the object, and when he saw that it was a woman's purse made of denim, he picked it up. The shoulder strap had been cut, and he saw that the side pocket was embroidered with red and yellow roses, just like—

Apprehension twisted the Sultan's stomach as he opened the purse and pulled out a brown leather pocketbook. Inside it were a few traveler's checks, no cash, and…Jessie's face smiling at him from her Maine driver's license. He closed the pocketbook with a snap and held it tightly in both hands for a moment while he gained control of the anger that rose in him, then he carefully put Jessie's wallet back into her purse. Tucking the purse under one arm, he pulled out his cell phone once again, this time to call his mother.

Jessie hadn't been this mad since last April Fool's day, when Jonny had super-glued her toilet seat together so that it was either all the way up or completely closed. Benton had grounded him for a week for that little prank, but both the doctor and her dad had gotten a good laugh out of it at her expense. This situation hardly compared, but she was just as angry.

She had no idea what time it was, but she figured she'd been wandering around for about two hours. Her scraped palms burned, her bruised knees ached, and one of her pant legs had been torn when she'd been knocked down. Her feet were starting to hurt from hours of walking. She was hungry and thirsty, but she had no money with which to relieve those conditions. She was tired, too. The sun might be up, but her internal clock was telling her that it was the middle of the night. Her eyes burned, and she blinked several times to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

_Get a grip, Jess. This is not the worst thing that's ever happened to you. _ She thought back to the time she'd nearly died from inhaling some bacteria that desiccated a person alive until his or her body shut down. Fortunately, an antidote had been found, but she still had occasional nightmares about the pain she'd endured during that incident in Malenque. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear. Then she continued on her way, even though she had no real idea where she was going.

She really hated being lost. The feeling of mild helplessness it produced in her made her feel weak and a little foolish. Hadji would probably say something like "one is never lost," followed by some obscure literary quote, but Jessie was _lost_. She was afraid she might be walking in circles, but she wasn't sure because so many of the roads didn't have signs. In addition, many of the little streets she passed looked so much alike that it was hard for her to keep track of where she was. She knew she was away from the main part of town, because there were considerably fewer people around. Jessie was fairly certain she'd wandered into a residential area, although she did see an occasional vendor hawking wares on the sidewalk. She had asked a few people for directions but hadn't been able to make much sense of the information she'd received. She had a hard time understanding the heavier accents of some of the city people, and since she didn't know the names of the streets she was on, the instructions she was given didn't help her much anyway.

She'd decided that her best bet was to find a police station. She could report the theft of her purse and hopefully, get in touch with Hadji or Neela. Unfortunately, it seemed that police stations in Bangalore were few and far between. She marched along wearily for a while, scanning each street for something or someone that could help her. As she was about to cross yet another street, she heard a shout behind her, so she turned to see three men approaching her.

The oldest look to be around twenty-four or twenty-five, and he appeared to be the leader. He was dressed in a manner similar to that of Tungesh—black slacks and a white dress shirt—although this man's clothes were not as clean or well-made as those of the minister's son. The two younger men who stood slightly behind him wore traditional off-white cotton trousers, collarless shirts and leather sandals. All three were wearing turbans.

"You lost, girl?" The leader asked Jessie in broken, heavily accented English. She hesitated, trying to understand what he'd said. He repeated his question in a louder voice as he stepped a little closer to her.

"Yes," Jessie finally replied, gathering from the expression on his face that 'yes' was the answer he'd been hoping for. "I'm trying to find a police station. Will you take me to one?"

"What you are giving us?" He demanded.

_My eternal gratitude,_ she thought sarcastically, but said instead, "If you can help me find

a police station, I'm sure that I can arrange for you to receive some kind of reward."

He advanced on her, but Jessie stubbornly held her ground. He put his face very close to hers, but she resisted the urge to push him away from her. "You are giving us something first. Then we are taking you to police." The other two men snickered behind him.

Jessie was alarmed. _Surely we aren't alone on this street—someone will see what is happening and scare these hoodlums away._ She forced herself to hold the man's gaze. She knew that if she broke eye contact, it would be seen as a sign of fear, and she refused to give this jerk even that amount of power over her. "My purse was stolen. I don't have anything to give you right now—but I will once I find my friend."

"I am not wanting money," he murmured into her ear.

Jessie's blood ran cold at his words. "I'm sorry," she said as she backed away. "I don't need your help after all. I'm sure I can find the police station on my own." She quickly glanced down the unpaved street. All she saw was an old, turbaned man near the corner with a broom in his hand. He nodded once and retreated into the doorway behind him. Jessie felt a little twinge of hope.

Her eyes jerked back to the men before her as the leader lunged at her. Her seven years of Tae Kwon Do training kicked in, and she reacted automatically. Her right foot flew up to catch him in the groin, and she could almost have laughed at the look of shock on his face. As the man crumpled, she delivered a crescent kick to the side of his head, knocking him sideways so that he wouldn't land on her when he fell. His two cohorts eyed her uncertainly, but she paid them no heed as she kicked the fallen man in the chest, hoping to put him in enough pain that he wouldn't come after her right away.

The more heavyset of the hoodlum's followers decided to make a move and threw a punch at her. She sidestepped it and yanked on his extended arm in an attempt to throw him, but he seemed to anticipate her move and leaned away from her; the combination of his strength and weight with her less-than-perfect stance didn't give her the leverage she needed. She changed tactics and thrust her palm towards the center of his face. His nose broke with a crunch that made Jessie's stomach turn. She'd never done that before, and the sound and sensation sickened her. The wounded man shrieked and began to sob as he swung wildly at her. She blocked his first two punches but took a third in the gut when she backed into the other goon, who'd come around behind her to hold her in place.

She bent over involuntarily, gasping for breath. _This didn't hurt so much in class, _she thought. She was afraid of what the men might do if she stopped fighting, so she didn't stop, even as she struggled to breathe. Since she was already in a good position for it, she rammed her head into the stocky man's belly. He was more solid than she'd expected, and the impact made her neck hurt. He went down, landing on top of his leader. The first man was still on the ground, and had been heaving up the contents of his stomach, but when his associate crashed down on him, the man's head hit the sidewalk with an audible _thunk_, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Compelled by her forward motion, Jessie landed on top of the big man, and the guy who'd been holding her fell onto her.

Jessie was repulsed by the feeling of being mashed between the bodies of two sweaty men who could have used a few lessons in personal hygiene. She struggled to extricate herself, but the man on top of her had woven the fingers of one hand into her braid, and she couldn't get free of him. She turned her head and sank her teeth into his forearm—the only part of him she could reach. The man screamed and released his grip on her hair. His blood flooded her mouth and she gagged as she strained to pull herself from the pile of men on the ground. She had almost gotten out of the pile when the man she'd bitten wrapped his hands around one of her thighs in a painfully tight grip. She kicked out, and her foot caught him in the jaw, causing his head to snap back. He crumpled into insensibility on top of the heap.

Outraged, Jessie scrambled to her feet and glared down at the men lying on the ground. Two of the three appeared to be unconscious. The man with the broken nose stared at her with fear in his eyes. "Come on," she urged in a low, harsh voice. "I dare you to get up—I dare you." The heavyset man responded to her taunt by closing his eyes and turning his bloodied face away from her.

Jessie's head snapped up as she heard the shrill sound of a police whistle. _About damned time!_ She turned to face the uniformed men running toward her. All five of them slowed uncertainly as they saw her. Her fire-engine-red hair burned with orange and gold lights in the hot afternoon sun. There was no more hair out of her braid than in it, and it hung in a wild mane around her face. Her mouth and cheek were smeared with bright red blood, and her clothes were spattered with it. Her green eyes were narrowed in fury, and her fists were clenched at her sides. She looked like a madwoman, and the officers were afraid to approach her.

The old man who'd nodded at Jessie earlier hobbled past the group of policeman, broom still in hand. He was talking loudly in Hindi, but Jessie had no idea what he was saying. One of the officers addressed her in perfect British English. "He says you fought these men—he says you fought like a tiger."

"I was protecting myself," Jessie said defensively. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, but only succeeded in further smearing the blood on her face. The metallic scent and flavor of the bright fluid was making her feel light-headed. "They wanted to hurt me."

"You did an excellent job of protecting yourself, Miss. I am Detective Ravindra. Perhaps you would like to come with me to headquarters and tell us what happened? You must file a report if these men are to be punished."

"I would be happy to." Jessie turned to follow him, but the old man placed his hand on her arm and said something in an urgent tone, gesturing at his face.

"He would like to offer you the opportunity to clean your face and hands," the policeman translated. He then added, "I think it would be a good idea."

"Please tell him, yes, thank you."

After the detective did so, the old man crooked a finger at her and let the way to his tiny house. It had only two rooms and a minimum of furniture. Jessie followed him inside, and his elderly wife took charge of the shaken young woman. The old lady washed Jessie's face, hands and neck with hot, soapy water, then gave her a cup of mint tea. While Jessie drank the hot beverage, the grandmotherly woman combed and re-braided Jessie's hair. The detective waited patiently in the main room and chatted with the old man. Finally, Jessie was ready to go to the police station.

Later that afternoon, Jessie sat on a hard, wooden chair, waiting for someone to come pick her up. While she'd been giving her statement to Detective Ravindra, another officer had recognized her from the description on the missing person report filed by the Sultan's mother The detective had immediately place a telephone call to the palace, and Jessie had been elated to hear Neela's relieved voice on the other end of the line.

"I will come pick you up right away. Do not leave the police station until I come for you," Hadji's mother had said.

"Don't worry—I'm not going anywhere," Jessie had replied with a watery laugh.

Forty minutes later, she was still waiting. She closed her eyes against the harsh, greenish, fluorescent lighting, and tried to tune out the buzz of noise that was the sound of the station hard at work. Now that the adrenaline rush had worn off, she was exhausted. Her limbs felt leaden, and her body ached. She figured they were going to need a crane to haul her butt out of the uncomfortable old chair.

Jessie drifted between sleep and wakefulness, and thinking she was dreaming, she didn't respond when her name was called. "Jessie!" called an urgent voice a second time, and the young woman's eyes snapped open when someone touched her. Neela knelt before her, her brown eyes bright with unshed tears. Anand stood behind Hadji's mother, his dark face etched with concern

Neela gripped Jessie's hands tightly, and a tear trickled down the older woman's cheek. "Let's go home," she said in a quavering voice.

Jessie nodded, afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would burst into tears. Anand moved to help her stand, and she gasped as her battered body protested. They left the police station after Neela signed some papers. Jessie sat in the back of the grey limousine with Neela. Hadji's mother put an arm around Jessie's shoulders in comfort, and the girl leaned against her gratefully.

Suddenly, a strange realization passed through Jessie's weary mind. "Where is Hadji?" she asked, struggling to sit up.

Neela stroked Jessie's hair to soothe her. "When I told him you had been found, he expressed his relief and said that he would be home this evening after his meetings." Neela's voice sounded strangely subdued.

Jessie felt a rush of disappointment that Hadji would not be waiting for her at the palace, but she shoved the feeling aside. She was leaving in less than a week, so it was best if she didn't let herself fall— She stopped herself. That was one thought that was better left unfinished. She settled herself at Neela's side and closed her eyes to sleep out the drive to the palace.

I'd like to offer a huge, extra special !Thank You! to my friend Alta, who was so very helpful to me while I was reworking the fight scene. Her technical advice was invaluable, and I hope you all enjoyed reading the new, more accurate description of Jessie's altercation with the street thugs!

Author's Note: Just for future reference, in my story, Jessie and Hadji are based on the first season characters both in appearance and attitude. I never liked second season Jessie; she was too much of a wimp, and that pink thing she always wore was so ugly! Also, I think the first season characters are all better looking, with the exception of Race, who, in my humble opinion, looked better in the second season.

Also, in my world, Jessie is a tough chick. Don't get me wrong: She isn't cold, or anything like that, but she is definitely not a sissified girly-girl. She has to be tough because she grew up in a man's world, and she has too much pride to appear weak in front of the men in her life. I really feel that Jessie is a strong, but still feminine woman—I don't believe the two characteristics are mutually exclusive—and I hope this comes across clearly in my writing.

Thanks again for reading this! If you like this, please review it. If you don't like it, tell me why!


	5. Something Fishy

**Chapter Five: Something Fishy**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Hadji tapped on Jessie's bedroom door. He waited a few beats, then called her name softly. There was no answer. Removing his baseball cap, he leaned his forehead against the door and sighed. His mother had said that Jesse would most likely be asleep, but he did not want to wait to see her.

He'd wanted to cancel his meetings and go straight to the police station after his mother had informed him that Jessie had been found, but she had gently, yet stubbornly, insisted that he keep his appointments because Jessie would need time to rest after all she'd been through. Neela had told him that his friend might be overwrought, but Hadji had seen Jessie keep her head in more than one life-or-death situation; he could not imagine that one street scuffle would send her over the edge. Hadji suspected that what his mother had really intended to do was give _him_ a chance to regain his composure. He had to admit that he felt much better that Jessie was safe in Neela's care. That was why he'd sat through the Minister of Transportation's hour-long lament about the amount of funding required to repave residential streets, examined statistics presented to him by the head of the Ministry of Education, and had spoken with the police commissioner about a proposal to build a new jail.

On his way home, he had paid a visit to Detective Ravindra. The officer had agreed to wait at the station until the Sultan arrived in order to discuss the specifics of the attack against Jessie. The detective's report was meticulously detailed, and Hadji realized that his mother may have had another motive for wanting to be the first to see Jessie. Although Ravindra assured him that Jessie had won the battle, she could not have come out unscathed from a street fight against three men. Neela would have wanted to give his friend time to clean up afterward and had probably had her examined by a doctor as well. As he read about the damage Jessie had inflicted on the thugs, all of whom had priors for theft, he felt a surge of pride. She was certainly her father's daughter. After reading the statement made by the old man who'd called the police and witnessed the fight, Hadji resolved to find a way to repay him and his wife for their kindness.

The sultan tapped on Jessie's door again, a little harder this time. There was still no answer. He knew she was asleep, but he did not want to wait until she woke up. He just wanted to see her, to make sure she was all in one piece, even though, logically, he knew she was fine. He'd seen her sleeping before since he had shared a tent with her and Jonny on more than one camping trip, but actually going into her bedroom while she was sleeping seemed…presumptuous, somehow. He did it anyway.

He opened the door and entered the room, closing it behind him quietly. Jessie lay on the bed. The mosquito netting was tied back, and he could see her clearly. She was on her side, only half covered by the ivory silk sheet she was clutching to her chest. She'd thrown one slim leg was thrown over the sheet, and Hadji noticed that her skin was only slightly darker than the fabric. Her toenails had been painted a shimmering grass green, he noted with a smile. The smile faded when he saw her scraped and bruised knee. He began to frown when he saw the ring of fingerprint bruises that circled her exposed thigh. The white cut-off sweats she wore rode low on her hips, exposing a band of pale flesh between her waistband and the hem of the little pink—_pink?_—t-shirt she wore. Her lovely face looked serene in sleep, contrasting with the long, fiery hair that streamed over the pillows.

The sultan sat down on the upholstered stool that doubled as a step for the high bed. It wouldn't hurt to sit with her for a few minutes, he told himself. He propped his chin on his hand and watched her sleep.

Jessie's eyes fluttered open, and she gave a start when she realized she wasn't alone in the room. Hadji was sitting on the footstool by her bed. His folded arms rested on the mattress, and his head lay on them. The hat he'd worn that morning was hanging from the bronze statuette on the small table next to him. He was asleep, and she couldn't blame him—He'd only had about two hours of sleep that morning. _I wonder what time it is, _she thought. She rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand beside her, then gasped as her bruised abdomen protested.

Hadji's head popped up. Apparently he had only been dozing. "What is the matter?" There was concern in his voice.

Jessie pressed her hands against her belly with a grimace. "One of those guys gut-punched me—knocked the wind out of me…" She trailed off when she saw the angry look on the sultan's face. "It's okay, Hadj. Your mom's doctor said I'd be fine in a couple days."

Hadji was glaring at the large purple-and-grey contusion that spread across her stomach, partially exposed by her t-shirt. Without thinking, he leaned over and pushed her shirt higher so that he could see the entire bruise.

Jessie held her breath as Hadji brushed his hand over the mark on her belly. _What—?_ was the only coherent thought her mind could form. Their gazes locked and held, and Jessie felt as though she was falling into his dark eyes.

Suddenly, Hadji looked away, his face filling with dusky color. Jessie could feel her own cheeks heating up. Carefully he pulled her shirt back down, tugging a little on the hem, although it stopped about an inch above her navel.

"I-I beg…your pardon," he began haltingly. His voice was husky.

"It's okay," she whispered. "You didn't hurt me." She didn't know why she'd said that, once it was out of her mouth. They both knew that wasn't the reason he'd apologized.

He stared at her shirt because he could not look at her face. The pale pink baby doll shirt had a white cartoon rabbit on it, and beneath the character was the caption 'Kiss My Butt.' "Kiss my—?" he began.

Jessie laughed at the look on his face. Hadji's expression had gone from embarrassment to confusion so quickly it was comical. It made her forget to be embarrassed herself. "This was my Christmas present from Jonny last year," she informed him. "He thought it would make me mad, and it did, until I realized that when I wore it, I would be telling _him_ to kiss _my_ butt. I thought it was a fitting revenge."

Hadji had a tiny smile on his face. "The rivalry between the two of you never ceases to amuse me. I do wonder at your choice of ammunition, however." His smile widened. "Does this mean you would also like _me_ to kiss y—"

"No!" She shouted, shocked as the image popped into her head. "I can't believe you just said that!" Her stomach ached as she laughed hysterically, but she could not stop. It was a welcome release for the earlier tension. Hadji laughed too, until tears filled his eyes. They finally calmed down but still grinned madly at each other. Jessie turned her head away from him and threw one arm across her face. She kept her other hand pressed against her belly. "I can't…look…at you! I'll…start…laughing again…and it…hurts too much," she panted.

The happy glow the sultan was feeling dimmed abruptly as he remembered exactly why his friend was laying in bed so early in the evening. "When the doctor came, did she give you anything to dull the pain?"

"Yeah," Jessie replied. "It's on the bathroom counter. What time is it?" She wasn't going to bother trying to look at the clock again.

"Almost seven o'clock. Would you like me to get it for you?"

"Sure, if you don't mind. It's almost time for another dose."

Hadji went to the bathroom and found the small white bottle sitting to one side, slightly away from Jessie's collection of the various feminine accoutrements that so many women felt they needed to make themselves presentable. _I do not even want to know what that is for,_ he thought, eyen a device that had handles like a pair of tongs on one end and two parallel half-circles on the other. Picking up the bottle, he read that she was to take one tablet at a time. He tipped a single light blue pill into his hand, then replaced the lid. He filled the green-and-gold glazed porcelain cup from the faucet and stepped back into the bedroom, only to run directly into Madhu, who had just entered the room with Jessie's dinner.

Water sloshed out of the cup onto the maid, and the tray she was carrying hit the floor with a crash. She stood staring at Hadji, both hands over her mouth in shock. Behind her, wearing an equally surprised expression, was Neela. Hadji's mother recovered first, speaking firmly to Madhu in Hindi. The young woman immediately knelt and began to pick up the food and broken dishes that littered the floor.

Neela took in her son's appearance and saw why Madhu had stared at him. This was the first she had seen of him since meeting him and Jessie in the hall that morning, and she was a little surprised at how he looked. He was bareheaded and dresses in western clothing, and too her knowledge, none of the servants had ever seen him so attired. She had not seen him without a turban since he was a small child, and she was startled by how different he looked without it. It was akin to the feeling one has when seeing a person who wears eyeglasses regularly take them off. The accessory was part of what made them who they were.

"I had not realized you were home, my son. Were your meetings satisfactory?" Neela asked politely, although there were a few other questions for which she would have liked answers. For example: Why was her son dressed in such a manner? Had he come here as soon as he had gotten home? How long had he been here? What was he doing in here? However, she was polite enough not to ask such things aloud.

"I returned home only a short while ago, Mother. I wanted to see that Jessie was alright." He gave her an inquiring look as he answered her second question. "My meetings went much as I expected. I have some paperwork to do this evening, as usual."

"Was no one upset that you were late?"

"I received no complaints, so I offered no excuses. It is not as though I make a habit of being tardy."

"Certainly not," Neela replied in a soothing voice. It was unusual to see her son on the defensive, and she did not want him to feel like she was interrogating him—although she was, and not nearly as thoroughly as she would like. She changed the subject. "Have you eaten supper?"

"No, I have not," the sultan replied. "I thought to dine with Jessie, although it appears that I knocked her supper to the floor." He bent and took the tray, one-handed, from Madhu, who was trying to get up from the floor and lift the heavy tray at the same time. Once she was standing, he handed it back to her with a nod.

"That can be resolved with little trouble." Neela paused and looked toward the bed. "Unless you are too tired, Jessie?"

As Jessie struggled to sit up, she replied, "No, I'm not tired at all." Hadji hurried over and helped her up, propping a few brightly-colored pillows behind her for support. She smiled up at him as she said, "And really, I'd love the company."

Hadji's mother did not miss the look that passed between the two young people, and a sidelong glance at Madhu told her that the maid had not missed it either. The wheels in Neela's head were turning. It was becoming more apparent to her that Jessie's interest in her son had not died over the years (no matter how she had denied that it had even existed). And Hadji no longer appeared to be ignorant of her charms, as he had been so long ago. Neela resolved to give the matter greater attention. In the meantime, it would be necessary to keep the maid from carrying tales to the rest of the staff.

"I will have supper for two sent here, Neela announced. "Perhaps you would like to refresh yourself before it arrives, my son." She left the room, shooing Madhu out before her.

Hadji looked down at Jessie as the bedroom door closed behind his mother. "Actually, that is an excellent suggestion. I believe I will do so."

"I'll await your return with bated breath," she replied melodramatically, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she held her clasped hands to her chest. Smiling at her silliness, the young man leaned forward to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Do not hold your breath too long," he teased, "for I do not believe that a blue face would compliment your orange hair."

"My hair is _not_ orange," she said indignantly as Hadji moved toward the door.

"I would not have it any other way," he replied, more to himself than to her, then left the room before Jessie hade a chance to reply.

Jessie sat for a moment, contemplating the possible meaning of his parting shot. The dynamics of their relationship were changing so quickly she wasn't sure what to think about it. They had known each other for years, but the vibes she felt around Hadji weren't "old buddy, old pal" feelings. She'd considered her old high school crush on him long over, so were these new feelings a result of the fact that they hadn't seen each other in so long? Her visit was going to be a short one, and she couldn't see any point in pursuing what appeared to be developing between them when she knew she wouldn't have another chance to see him for several months. She was startled out of her thoughts by a knock on the door.

Without bother to leave her bed, she invited whomever it was to enter. Neela came in, followed by two servant men who quickly assembled a beautifully inlaid wooden folding table and two matching chairs.

"Wow," Jessie commented as she watched the process. "I wasn't exactly expecting this. It seems like a lot of trouble."

"We cannot have the sultan sitting on the floor to eat his supper," Hadji's mother replied with a smile, "and it is certainly no trouble for a treasured guest such as you are."

Jessie was a little embarrassed and couldn't think of anything to say, so she said nothing.

The men left, and a pretty young servant woman entered, carrying a bundle under one arm and a small bouquet of dainty white roses in one hand. Neela watched as the maid spread a bright red tablecloth over the table and set out crisp white napkins. When the maid left the room, the sultan's mother arranged the flowers herself, placing them the short cut-crystal vase that had been bundled inside the tablecloth. Once she was satisfied, she turned back to Jessie.

"Madhu will be here soon with supper. Let me help you to your chair."

Jessie declined the older woman's offer of aid and gingerly climbed out of the big bed herself. Neela shook her head at Jessie's stubbornness and excused herself to go and discover what was delaying Madhu.

Jessie spent a few minutes fidgeting in the quiet room before deciding she had to do something besides sit there and wait. Just as she was about to shove her chair away from the table with her feet, there was yet another knock on the door. "Come in," Jessie called, thinking it was probably Neela. It was Hadji instead. He'd changed his clothes and was once again wearing his customary white turban. He extended a cell phone out to her.

"It is Jonny," he said with a smile.

A grin spread over Jessie's face as she took the phone from Hadji. "Hey, Hotshot! How's it going?" Hadji sat in the chair across from her and watched her talk to his adopted brother.

"How's it going yourself?" Eighteen-year-old Jonny replied.

"Not bad. I'm just getting ready to have dinner."

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"You aren't going to believe this, but a cow stepped on it!"

In a disbelieving voice, Jonny asked, "you're kidding, right?"

"You can't imagine how much I wish I were!" She exclaimed, then she gave him an abbreviated and censored version of how her cell phone had ended up in the path of the bull cart earlier that day.

They both laughed, and Jonny said, "Wait 'til I tell my dad he has to invent cow-proof cell phones! But anyway," he continued, "what else did you do today?"

"Hadji took me shopping. It was pretty exciting."

"Shopping?" Jonny sounded dubious.

"Well, you had to be there," she said with a chuckle.

"Did you buy me anything?" He teased.

"Why would I do that? Don't you have enough junk in your room already?"

"Hey, you can never have enough junk, as long as someone else is paying for it!"

Jessie laughed at that, then asked him about his day. They talked for about twenty minutes before saying goodbye. "Take care, Hotshot. Give my love to my dad and the doc." She offered the phone to Hadji, who'd gotten up to let Madhu into the room but was now off to the side while the maid set out the dishes.

Jessie ended the phone call as the sultan explained, "I spoke to him before I brought the phone to you."

"Did you say anything about what happened today?" She asked him.

"No. I thought it should be your story to tell." He paused. "I notice you did not."

"I don't think I will, at least not anytime soon. I'm okay, relatively speaking, and I don't want my dad to think I can't take care of myself when I'm away from home. I'm trying to be more independent, and if he knew what had happened, you know as well as I do that he'd be on a plane and heading here quicker than you could blink."

Hadji nodded. "I think you did an excellent job of taking care of yourself under the circumstances." He thanked Madhu as she left the room, then he took his place at the table.

"Why, thank you," she said with a smile. She unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap, then lifted the cover of her dish and dug in. The adrenaline rush caused by the day's events had left her famished, and she wasn't shy about eating when she was hungry.

"Jessie…" Hadji's somber tone brought the young woman's attention back to him as he sat on the other side of the table. He had not touched his plate. "I am sorry for the ordeal you went through this afternoon. I regret that I was not able to prevent what happened."

Her expression became as serious as his. "I won't lie to you, Hadj. I was scared, but more than that, I was angry. I hated that I felt helpless, and I was angry with myself for my lack of foresight. Whether or not anyone could have prevented what happened, I should have been better prepared. I should have put money somewhere other than my purse so that I could have taken a taxi. I could have carried a map of the city. There were so many things I could have, and probably should have, done. I definitely don't blame you, and I don't want you to blame yourself." She sighed and plucked at the bright tablecloth. "It was just one of those things. You _know _how I seem to be a trouble magnet—although nowhere near the magnitude Jonny is."

Her last comment brought a small smile to his face, and the young sultan reached across the table to still her restless hand with his own. "I am sure that what you say is true, my friend, and yet I feel as though I am missing something important." He paused, thinking. "I cannot quite 'put my finger on it,' as they say."

Jessie looked him in the eyes, frowning a bit. "You know, I did get the impression that Tungesh was trying to ditch me…he—hmmm..." She fell silent and sat back in her chair, clasping her hands in front of her mouth thoughtfully. Her supper lay on the table, forgotten for the moment.

Hadji sipped from his water goblet and waited patiently for her to decide what she wanted to say. At last, she spoke.

"He said something to the effect that he resented having to deal with me because I didn't act or dress the way a—I believe the term he used was "well-bred"—woman should. I know there are some cultural differences here, but he was trying to insult me. I hate to admit it, but it worked. While I was yelling at him, he dashed, and the next thing I knew, I'd been knocked down and robbed."

The sultan set his glass down carefully in an effort to control his temper. "It appears that further conversation with Tungesh is in order," he said quietly. "I felt sure that he was hiding something from me when we encountered him alone this afternoon."

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Instead, each processed the information they had just received.

Jessie broke the silence. "Maybe we should finish dinner while we let whatever's going on just stew in the backs of our minds for a while. Sometimes it's easier to come up with an answer when you aren't looking for it."

Hadji agreed, and they passed a pleasant hour talking about anything except what really on their minds. When they finished, the sultan summoned servants to remove the remains of supper.

After the room was cleared, Hadji observed Jessie's careful attempt to climb back in bed without causing herself too much discomfort. Rather than give her a chance to refuse an offer of help, he merely scooped her up in his arms and deposited her gently on the bed.

Jessie yelped in surprise when she felt him catch her under her knees and shoulders. By the time she realized what was happening, she was already lying on the mattress. "That wasn't necessary," she said with a small, self-conscious laugh.

"I know," he replied, still standing over her, "but I enjoyed doing it."

"I'll just bet you did," she said, but her smile softened the sarcasm in her voice. On impulse, she put her arms around his neck and gave him a quick squeeze. "Goodnight."

He returned the gesture, pressing his cheek against hers in the process. He paused a moment to take in the scent of her hair and the softness of her skin, then straightened as her arms fell away. "Goodnight," he replied. He released the mosquito netting from its tiebacks, then left the room, turning off the light as he went.

Instead of heading to his own bed, the sultan went to his office. It was still early enough for him to spend some time with the seemingly endless amount of paperwork that his position afforded him.

Hadji clicked the 'Save' button, then printed three copies of his suggestions form improvement of the police commissioner's proposal. Tomorrow, he would have one copy delivered to the commissioner and one to Minister Hiranya. The last one would go into his files. As much as he depended on computers, he had enough experience with hackers—and had even been one himself—to know that a hard copy was the best backup file. Thinking of his primary advisor reminded him that he needed to pay a visit to the man's son.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, Tungesh probably had no idea how dangerous Jessie's situation had been that afternoon. He could not know what she had endured. _Although he most likely does not care, _the sultan thought wryly. However, there was something about the way things had unfolded earlier that made him wonder about how much of Jessie's ordeal was an accident. He wanted to be sure that the younger man knew what had occurred because of his carelessness. It was too much to hope that he might be upset by what had happened. Hadji did not like to throw his power around, but if it became necessary to impress upon the young man the foolishness of his actions, he would use what he had at his disposal—even if he had to go to his primary advisor to do so.

The tall clock against the wall chimed once, and Hadji glanced over to see that it was indeed one o'clock in the morning. He rubbed his temples and pushed his chair away from the desk with his feet. He had promised his mother that they would meditate together at dawn, so he had better get some sleep. He shut down the computer and headed for his rooms.

Hadji's suite of three rooms was large and consisted of a sitting room where he infrequently watched television, a huge bedroom, and a luxuriously appointed bathroom. It was still smaller than the Sultan's Apartment, which was the five-room suite his mother kept as she had during her marriage to his father. Hadji had encouraged her to remain there, where she could be surrounded by memories of the man she had loved so much—and still loved, if the truth were known.

He removed his turban, changed into soft cotton pajamas, then climbed into his bed, which was even larger and more ornate than the one in Jessie's room. Before he lay down, he picked up the photograph of his family that he'd brought with him when he'd moved here for good, and looked at the smiling faces in it. The picture was about four years old, and everyone in it seemed so young, even Mrs. Evans, who'd had to be cajoled into posing with them. He placed the photo back on the night stand where it had been for two years, switched of the lights using the switch next to the headboard, then lay down and closed his eyes. _Jessie, _he thought as an image of her laughing face popped into his head, _what is it about you?_ This sudden and fierce urge he had to keep her safe and by his side was beginning to disturb him. Even as he attempted to rationalize it with a variety of reasons—she was a good friend and he could not stand by and see her harmed, as her host it was his responsibility to protect her, etc.—he recognized that there was some other truth that he was not yet willing to consider. He made certain his alarm clock was set then shut off the light and went to sleep.

!Thank You! To everyone who reviewed Chapter Four: Palin1, Wildxtreme, Makotostar, Echo, and Chihuahua.

ooo

**Author's Note: **This is a revision of the original Chapter Five. Some things are the same, but much of it has been edited or deleted, and quite a bit has been added. I chose to rewrite this chapter because I was unhappy with the first version I posted; I no longer felt that it was appropriate to the story that I am trying to tell. In any case, I like this version much better, and I hope you do, too.

I still want to thank those who took the time to review the original Chapter Five: Makotostar, Wildxtreme, Kris Davis, Palin1, Echo, and Renisanz. I really appreciate your encouragement!

If you like it, let me know—if you don't like it, tell me why!


	6. The Morning After

**Chapter Six: The Morning After**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Please note: In this chapter, dialogue marked by angle brackets indicate that a character is speaking in Kannada. Also, please refer to the glossary following the chapter for some definitions and explanations of the yoga terms I use here.

_Tick._ The tiny sound the bedside clock made just before its alarm sounded work Hadji, and he turned it off before it even had the chance to ring. He switched on the small bedside lamp and got out of bed. After performing his morning ablutions, he donned a short dhoti and a plain white turban in preparation for a meditations session with his mother. He made his way down the dim hallway to the Sultan's Apartments and entered without knocking.

Hadji? Neela called out in Kannada.

I am here, Mother, he replied as he shut the door behind him, knowing that his mother expected him to answer in the same language. Crossing the large main room, he entered the small chamber from which his mother's voice had emanated.

The room was faintly illuminated by a single candle in a wall sconce. Hadji's mother sat on the floor upon a dhurri, facing the long floor-to-ceiling windows that composed the room's eastern wall. She wore a dove-grey salwar kamis, but the kamis was cut high on the sides and only fell to mid-thigh. A second dhurri was spread on the floor to her left. The sultan took his place upon it, settling comfortably into the Lotus position.

Without speaking, mother and son began their usual routine. After ten minutes of focused breathing, they opened their eyes to see that the night dark sky had begun to lighten and was now a luminous cobalt blue punctuated with bright stars. They began to stretch, completing two sets of "Head-to-Knee" stretches; then they moved to stand at the front of their rugs and performed a series of standing poses, executing each move slowly while concentrating on breathing and pushing away thoughts of the outside world. Fresh morning air, delicately scented by flowers from the garden below, wafted through the open windows, and Hadji breathed deeply of it. He heard the music of the birds calling to one another, the sound of running water, and the soft chiming of the wind bells in the slight breeze. That breeze caressed his skin, and Hadji felt tranquility sweep over him. At this moment, he was only his body—only a collection of bone, muscle and skin. For this space in time, he was not a sultan, a symbol, a politician, or a son. He was only a man, and his mind was at rest.

As the sun cast streaks of golden light across the sky, and the clouds glowed hot pink, Neela and Hadji began the Great Salutation sequence, performing it with purposeful, mind-cleansing, body-strengthening deliberation. Finally, they rested, lying on their backs on top of the dhurries for another round of meditation intended to cool down their bodies and bring their breathing back to normal.

Unwelcome thoughts began to intrude as Hadji lay at rest upon his dhurri. He stubbornly pushed away his mental list of things that needed to be done that day and tried to concentrate solely on his breathing. _Three counts in…four counts out…three counts in…four counts out…_The conversation he'd had with Jessie the night before fluttered into his mind. _Three counts in…four counts out…_An image of the bruise on her belly superimposed itself on the inside of his eyelids, and his stomach clenched. He thought, _that could have been prevented! _He opened his eyes with a soft sigh and sat up. It did not appear that he would regain his concentration or his inner peace this morning.

Beside the sultan, Neela opened her eyes. Are you not well, my son? She inquired gently.

He cast her a rueful smile. I am well enough. He rose to his feet gracefully, and his mother did the same.

Shall I see you at breakfast? She asked after blowing out the candle. The light it had cast was not necessary now that the sun had risen.

He nodded. Yes. And what of Jessie? 

I ordered Madhu to let her sleep as late as she wishes, and to give her breakfast in bed. Dr. Priyadarshini warned me that she might be sorer today than she was yesterday. She also told me that Jessie might want to sleep most of the day. Apparently, a traumatic event such as this is often followed by a period of extreme exhaustion. 

Ah— Here, Hadji paused and, lacking the words he wanted, said in English, "the aftereffects of an adrenaline high. I should have remembered that." Touching his mother's arm in a gesture of thanks, he nodded. Very well, I will see you here at breakfast. He cast a bright smile at his mother then left her quarters for his own.

Jessie opened her eyes with a start. He heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it, and she pressed one hand to her chest, as if to still its frantic beating. _What happened…?_ Her mind was a little fuzzy, and all she could remember of the dream was a feeling of panic. Yesterday's events came back to her in a rush, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the memories. _ I was afraid then, but I won't be now,_ she told herself firmly. Experimentally, she slowly sat up. It still hurt, but she managed to get out of bed on her own, even if it did take a while.

As she moved from the bed to the bathroom, she began to realize just how important stomach muscles were for walking. _Why did Neela give me such a big room? _She thought miserably. Jessie took a pain pill, and looked around the bathroom. She decided to make use of the large sunken tub carved out of white-and-gold-veined green marble. A hot bath would reduce her soreness, Jessie reasoned, and she didn't think she was ready for the walk back to her bed. After the tub filled, she sank carefully into the steaming, softly-scented bathwater, closed her eyes, and let her thoughts wander.

"Miss Bannon? Miss Bannon!"

Jessie jerked awake and immediately slipped under the surface of the water. She resurfaced with a splash, choking, gasping, and blinded by heavy locks of her sodden red hair. She heard a pop as the plug was pulled from the bathtub drain, then small strong hands began to pat her firmly between her shoulder blades.

"Miss Bannon, what were you doing?" Madhu demanded in her accented English. "You might have drowned!"

Jessie had regained her breath enough to reply, "I'm glad you were there to wake me up." Madhu didn't appear to register the sarcasm in Jessie's voice. Inside, she was berating herself for being so stupid as to fall asleep in the bathtub. It seemed she was still feeling the aftereffects of yesterday's adrenaline rush. She began to shiver and realized that she was sitting in a tub full of cool water. Her skin was wrinkled from the long immersion, her derriere was sore, and her arms and legs were stiff. She must have been in the tub for hours!

Madhu helped Jessie out of the tub and wrapped her in a soft cotton robe. Jessie allowed herself to be led to the vanity bench and sat meekly as the young Indian woman simultaneously toweled Jessie's hair dry and scolded her for her foolishness. Jessie closed her eyes and nodded meekly whenever the maid stopped for breath. _I feel like I'm six years old again, _she thought. Finally, Madhu cam to the end of her rant, and asked Jessie, "Are you hungry? Perhaps you should have some lunch."

"Lunch?" Jessie repeated as she stood up and walked slowly into the bedroom. "What time is it?" She asked, even as she glanced toward the clock. It read one-eighteen p.m. She turned around and saw that the maid was taking out a fresh set of pajamas. "Please don't do that, Madhu. I can get dressed on my own." _And I'm not getting into pajamas again until it is time to go to bed._

"Very well, Miss Bannon," the other woman replied, putting the clothes back into the drawer.

Jessie suppressed a sigh. She has asked Madhu over and over again to call her by her first name, but he young woman insisted on 'Miss Bannon.' Jessie had finally given up. "Actually, I'm very hungry. Lunch would be great. Nothing fancy, though."

The maid took the hint. "I will take care of it right away." She left the room at once, closing the door behind her.

Jessie headed for the dresser to choose her clothes for the day. She decided on an ankle length cotton dress with little cap sleeves. It was royal blue and had pale blue bamboo leaves printed on it. She figured the bright color would brighten up the crummy day she was having. It was also easy to put on—a definite plus in her current condition. After she dressed, she wandered onto the balcony that overlooked the front lawns. He accidental dunking had dissolved the veil of fatigue that had overwhelmed her that morning, and she felt restless as a result.

The memory of the conversation she'd had with Hadji the night before sprang to mind, and she seized upon it, if only to occupy her thoughts. She recalled her feeling that Tungesh had become separated from her intentionally, and on the heels of that impression came the image of Hiranmayi on her hands and knees on the sidewalk. _Could she have fallen on purpose?_ Jessie wondered uneasily. _She is an actress, after all._ Then she dismissed the idea. Hiranmayi exuded meekness, just as her younger brother overflowed with boldness. Jessie looked out over the palace gardens to the forests beyond and idly pondered all that had happened since she'd arrived.

Suddenly, a large shape moved into her field of vision, and she quickly backed away from it before she realized it was only Hadji coming onto the balcony. She'd been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard him enter. "You scared me! I didn't hear you come in."

He frowned at her reaction. All the color had drained out of her face in that moment before she had recognized him. "You did not answer my knock, but I knew you were up because I spoke with Madhu." He did not add that he had asked Madhu to notify him when Jessie awoke. He leaned down to get a good look at her face. "Are you all right?"

"Of course! I'm kind of sore, that's all." Jessie broke eye contact first, looking out over the verdant forest once more.

The sultan placed a hand on the side of her face and turned it toward him. "I was not referring to your physical condition, my friend. Your immediate reaction to my presence seemed rather extreme."

Color flooded her cheeks. She stepped away from him, licking her lips nervously. "I'm just a little jumpy. I think that's acceptable, considering. Give me a day or two to get over it, and I'll be fine."

Hadji turned toward the balcony railing and sighed. "You should not have to get over anything. You came here to enjoy yourself, and you ended up in a fistfight with street thugs on your first full day here. It should not have happened. I am supposed to be taking care of you."

Jessie moved to stand beside him at the railing, impatiently brushing a lock of damp red hair out of her eyes. "Please don't get all Victorian on me, Hadj. I'm okay, so let's not worry about it too much. Yesterday's incident was probably just one of those things."

"It has been so long since I have spent any appreciable amount of time with all of you. It seems easy to forget that life-or-death situations are a common occurrence in your lives." The sultan gazed unseeing at the vista before him, his voice almost wistful.

Jessie was slightly alarmed by his tone. He was standing right next to her, but it suddenly seemed as though he were miles away. "_Our_ lives, Hadji. You forgot to include yourself."

He looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "No, I did not."

Her heart wrenched, and it was as though she'd been punched in the stomach again. "Where are you? Why do you feel so far away?"

He closed his eyes and turned his face away from her. "I need to be here—to take care of my responsibilities, to lead my people, and to carry out my father's legacy and my mother's dreams." He gripped the filigreed stone railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I feel guilty because sometimes I just do not want to be here. I miss being at home in Maine with everyone. I miss traveling with Dad and Race. I miss Mrs. Evans' cooking. I even miss watching you and Jonny argue during breakfast…"

Jessie grasped Hadji's arm and shook it a little in her urgency. "We all want you to visit. Your mother has ruled in your place before, and there were no problems then. Why is it different now?" Her voice was full of earnest entreaty as she continued. "If you come see us, I'll pick a fight with Jonny just so you can watch. We can eat peanut butter sandwiches in the lighthouse like we did when we were kids. We can go hiking in the woods and feed seagulls on the beach. Anything you want to—"

Hadji gripped the hand she had put on his arm and turned to face her. His dark eyes shone with some strong emotion that made Jessie forget how to breathe for a moment. A small smile turned up the corners of his beautiful mouth. "If only it could be that easy, Jessie."

Jessie gazed up at him. "It _could_ be that easy," she said softly. "It would be so, so easy…" She leaned toward him without realizing it, suddenly wanting to be as close to him as she could get.

Hadji put his hands on her shoulders to stop her but did not move away from her. Their faces were only inches apart as he spoke quietly. "This is not a good idea." _And yet…_his mind continued…

"I know," she replied. Then faintly, mostly to herself, she added, "But I'm starting not to care." She averted her eyes and started to step away from him, but he didn't release her.

"Perhaps a compromise is in order," he said in a low voice, then he embraced her, pulling her against him. "Will this do?" He asked, running one hand down the shining length of her hair.

She rested her head on his chest and put her arms around his wait as she said, "This will do just fine."

Three stories below, the sultan and his guest were being observed with interest.

Author's Note: Thank you for being so patient while I finished this chapter. It seems as though the story is taking on a life of its own now. I find that I am straying from my outline more and more in order to keep the flow, but that's okay. I just have to think a little harder.

!Thank You! To Echo fro reviewing the new (and improved) Chapter 5, and to Palin 1 for his _excellent _advice during the writing process—he was right! He helped me out so much with my yoga description—I appreciate all your help very much, Palin1!

If you like it let me know, if you don't, please tell me why!

**Glossary:**

Dhoti—traditional men's loincloth. Can be worn up high on the thighs or all the way down to the ankles, depending on the wearer's activity.

Dhurri—traditional yoga rug, usually made of coarsely woven cotton. It offers traction for hands and feet during the practice of yoga. It is often dyed and is sometimes painted with Hindu religious symbols.

Salwar kamis—a traditional Indian outfit work by women, consisting of trousers that fit tightly at hips and ankles (salwar), and a calf- or ankle-length dress or tunic with full- or ¾ length sleeves (kamis or kameej). As far as I can discover, a shorter version of this costume is traditionally worn by women practicing yoga. If anyone has information contradicting this, please let me know and I will gladly alter my description.

**Yoga Terms:**

I found yoga positions very difficult to describe, so I chose to place them in a separate glossary. I recognize that my explanations may be hard to understand. If this is the case, you might wish to go to and take a look at the posture sketches they have there. They don't have illustrations of all the yoga poses, but many of them are there. In this case, a picture truly _is_ worth a thousand words. Please be aware that there can be many different variations of a position or sequence that has only one name. I am using the names and variations I was taught.

Head-to-Knee side stretches: This is a version of the hamstring stretch, in which one sits with legs spread and stretches from side to side in order to stretch hamstrings, lats, and inner thighs.

Great Salutation: A variation of the Sun Salutation, it consists of a sequence of twenty-two poses that flow smoothly from one to the next. I was going to include a step-by-step description in which Hadji and Neela perform the Great Salutation, but it was getting rather complicated and a little boring. In the middle of the third rewrite, I decided that it was better left out. It is much more enjoyable to do/watch than to read about. Please visit if you would like more detail.


	7. Unexpected Company

**Chapter Seven: Unexpected Company**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Please note: Dialogue marked by angle brackets indicate that a character is speaking in Hindi.

Jessie and Hadji sprang apart at the sound of a knock on the bedroom door.

"That must be Madhu with my lunch," she said and went to answer the door.

The sultan remained where he was and watched her walk slowly into the room. His heart was beating faster than normal, and he acknowledged to himself just how much willpower it had taken to decline her invitation for a kiss. At that moment it would have been so easy to follow where his emotions were leading. He heard her greet Madhu, but knew that the maid could not see him from the door.

"Miss Bannon," the young woman began, "Her Highness wishes to know if you would like to have mendhi applied? It would take most of the afternoon, but she thought it appropriate since Dr. Priyadarshini recommended that you spend today resting."

"Mendhi is temporary body art, right?" Asked Jessie.

Hadji did not hear Madhu reply, but he heard his friend say excitedly, "That would be so cool! I'd love to!"

He felt a small twinge of disappointment. Mendhi was a primarily female ritual. If his mother was going to have an impromptu mendhi session, he would not be welcome in Jessie's quarters, at least not until the little party was over.

_It is just as well, _his conscience told him. _A little distance between you and your pretty guest is not such a poor idea at the moment._

"—inform Her Highness," he heard Jessie's maid say.

"Great!" Jessie replied. "I'll eat my lunch before you come back."

After a moment, Jessie called out in a wry voice, "You can come out of hiding now."

Hadji came in from the balcony to find Jessie sitting on the long, cushion-strewn bench. A low, drum-shaped table bearing a glass of cold lemonade and a plate of savory saffron-flavored yellow rice and spicy vegetable kebabs stood on the floor near her. She smiled at him a little shyly, then asked, "Have you had lunch? I'm not as hungry as I thought I was…"

He gave her a long look, one that had a touch of regret in it. "It is best if I go, my friend. I have no doubt that my presence will be superfluous once my mother arrives."

Jessie raised an eyebrow at him. "If you insist…Are you sure you aren't just leaving to avoid the taint of girliness that will soon be filling the room? Jonny would be out of here in a split second if he were here right now."

The sultan smiled. "I assure you that is not the case. Not entirely, anyway. Mother would probably ask me to leave if I were here when she arrived." He moved closer to the door. "I will see you this evening at dinner. Enjoy yourself."

"See you later, then," she replied as he left, and then she settled back to enjoy her lunch.

Two hours later, Jessie was laughing with Neela and Madhu over tall glasses of mango lhassi. The smooth fruit drink was cold and refreshing, neither too tart nor too sweet. Carefully, Jessie took another sip of her drink, and her green eyes sparkled with merriment. "What did you do when you found out what Hadji had done?"

Neela chuckled, but her hand did not waver as she carefully applied the strong—but not unpleasant—smelling henna mixture to Jessie's left foot. "Hadji's father and I decided that we could not have a candy-stealing monkey roaming freely about the palace, so Patil was sentenced to spend his entire life in the palace menagerie. Hadji was such a sensitive child. His punishment was to live with the guilt that his decision to train his pet to be a thief led to Patil's lifelong imprisonment. Though he was only three years old, he took it quite hard. He cried for a week, and he certainly never tried to train another animal accomplice…" The older woman lifted her hand from her work for a moment, and a look of sadness crossed her face briefly.

Jessie could almost read Neela's thoughts. _At least not as far as you know, _Jessie mused. _He was taken from you a year later when your husband was murdered, and you were imprisoned. _She decided it was time to chance the subject.

"So how long do I have to leave this on?" She asked, looking closely at the lotus blossom pattern on the back of her right hand and to which Madhu was placing some finishing touches. The greenish-black henna paste contrasted starkly with her fair skin.

The maid smiled. "At least overnight, Miss Bannon. Twenty-four hours is better, if you can keep it there." She leaned back. "Your hands are finished. Let them dry a bit while I aid Her Highness with your feet." She then moved around Neela and knelt beside her in front of Jessie.

Jessie inspected Madhu's work curiously. She was delighted by the floral pattern that covered the back of her hands and swirled around her fingers and thumbs. "This is just beaut—" She broke off with a start as Madhu began applying henna to the sole of her right foot. Neela had already decorated the top and sides of it.

"Please do not move, Jessie. We do not want to make a mistake," Neela teased with a gentle smile.

"I was just surprised. Umm…how am I going to walk with this on the bottoms of my feet?"

"Very carefully, and as little as possible." The older woman sat back on her heels for a moment as she stretched her arms over her head. "This is all part of my diabolical plan to make you rest for another day. I do not mean to say that I am not enjoying this time with you, but Dr. Priyadarshini said it would be best for you to spend another day doing as little as possible, and I am inclined to agree with her."

Jessie sighed. "I came here for some rest and relaxation, but this isn't what I had in mind…"

Neela patted the side of Jessie's leg. "Do not worry about it, my dear. I believe that my son has something planned for you tomorrow afternoon. Will it not be best if you are completely rested for the occasion?"

Jessie perked up. "Occasion? What does he have planned?"

"I fear that I am not at liberty to tell you," Hadji's mother replied with a smile, "but I am certain that you will enjoy it." She lifted Jessie's foot once more and resumed her work.

Neela and Madhu had almost finished when there was a knock on the bedroom door. The maid rose to answer it and admitted a teenage girl who spoke softly to Madhu in Kannada.

Neela turned to Jessie and said, "Hiranmayi Hiranya is here to visit you, and she's brought a guest. Do you wish to see her?"

"Of course!" Jessie exclaimed without hesitation. "She came all this way, after all."

Neela turned to the teenager and nodded. The girl bowed and left the room quickly. Madhu shut the door behind her then moved back to Jessie and Neela.

The sultan's mother stopped her. "I can finish this, Madhu. Please fetch more refreshments before Jessie's guests arrive."

"Of course, Your Highness." She bowed, then left to do as she had been bidden.

A few minutes later, there was another knock on the door. "Please enter," Neela called out from her place on the floor, just as Jessie said, "Come in!" The two women smiled at each other as the door opened, and the minister's lovely daughter entered in a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume. A short, slight woman in her mid-forties followed behind Hiranmayi.

A startled expression crossed Hiranmayi's face when she saw Neela sitting at Jessie's feet. Her face cleared as she recognized the odor of the henna paste, and she smiled. "How fun," she exclaimed brightly after bowing to Neela. She gestured toward the woman who accompanied her and said, "Your Highness, may I make known to you my mother's sister, Bhairavi Sarasvat. I live with her in Mysore when I am working." Hiranmayi's aunt bowed respectfully and declared in a low, melodious voice that it was a pleasure to meet Neela. Of Jessie, she said, "This is the sultan's guest, Miss Jessica Bannon, who met with some misfortune yesterday."

"What misfortune was that, Miss Hiranya?" Hadji asked from the open door, startling the four women. A look of uncertainty flickered over the young woman's face while Neela and Jessie glanced toward each other in confusion.

"Your Highness! How are you?" Hiranmayi touched her aunt's shoulder and asked, "May I introduce to you my aunt, Bhairavi Sarasvat?"

Hadji smiled politely at the woman and inclined his head. "How very nice to meet you, Madam," he said tonelessly, as his gaze flicked back to Hiranmayi. "Now, may I have an answer to my question?"

"Well—the wedding procession did separate us." Hiranmayi looked at Jessie. "It must have been a frightening experience for you when you became lost in the crowd."

Hadji spoke again. "Jessie was directed to a police station after I left you and your brother at the coffeehouse. My mother was notified, and she brought Jessie home while I attended to my duties as Sultan."

Hiranmayi's expression faltered the tiniest bit at Hadji's less than subtle reminder of his rank, but he, watching her closely, was the only one who noticed the nearly imperceptible change.

"So you see, Jessie is none the worse for the short time she spent alone in the city," Neela said after realizing that there must be more to the situation than she first thought. Certainly there could be no harm in corroborating her son's story. "Isn't that right, my dear?" She asked with a glance in Jessie's direction.

"Yes," Jessie agreed after a brief pause in which she recovered from her surprise. Hadji was not one to rearrange the truth to suit him, so she knew that he must have a very good reason for what he was doing now. "So please have a seat. I believe Madhu will be back soon with some cold drinks."

Hiranmayi and her aunt sat on the bench next to Jessie; it was large enough to seat five people comfortably and could even seat six if they didn't mind getting friendly. Jessie noticed for the first time that Bhairavi was carrying a white paper sack, in which she was now rummaging, while her niece looked on expectantly. She pulled from the bag two wrapped boxes. Hiranmayi took the first box, covered in an orange floral print, and extended it to Neela with both hands.

"For you, Your Highness. I hope you like burfi."

Neela accepted the box with a smile. "Why, thank you, Miss Hiranya. As a matter of fact, I like burfi very much."

Hiranmayi offered the other box, wrapped in shimmering emerald green fabric, to Jessie, whom she sat beside. "And for you, Miss Bannon. Have you ever tasted burfi?"

Jessie nodded as she took the box from Hiranmayi. "Yes, once, the first time I visited here. It reminds me a little of American fudge." Seeing Hiranmayi's blank expression, she explained, "It is a candy like burfi, and it usually comes in chocolate flavors."

"Oh, I see," the actress replied while giving the impression that she didn't.

Hadji had remained standing in the doorway, but now he stepped into the room to allow Madhu, who was carrying a tray of refreshments, to enter. He watched as the maid distributed drinks, then spoke into the silence. "Would you and your aunt care to join us for dinner, Miss Hiranya? You are quite welcome, I am sure."

Hiranmayi smiled warmly and glanced at her aunt, who nodded. The young woman looked back to the sultan and replied, "We would love to, Your Highness. Thank you for the invitation."

"It is no trouble at all." He moved toward the doorway as he said, "I will see all of you at dinner, then. Now I must return to work. Please enjoy yourselves." He closed the door behind him as he left, leaving the five women looking at each other in the quiet room.

A big !Thank You! to all of my Chapter 6 reviewers: Wildxtreme, Palin 1, renisanz, AmethysteAngel, Echo, Andrea, Morgan Skye, Parella, Maile Skye, and capncrunchnotthecereal.


	8. We Must Carry It with Us

**Chapter Eight: We Must Carry It with Us**

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters from The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest. They all belong to Hanna-Barbara. However, this story is mine, as are all the characters seen here that did not appear on the show.

Neela spoke first, asking Madhu to inform the cook that they would have two more guests for dinner. "I think it would be best if we ate in the small formal dining room, also." As Madhu turned to obey, the sultan's mother turned back to her nearly forgotten task, surveying Jessie's feet critically before going back to work. "Well, my dear, we are nearly finished," she said as she carefully applied henna paste to the design Madhu had started on Jessie's right foot.

"May I see your hands?" Hiranmayi asked Jessie.

"Of course," Jessie answered, extending them toward the other young woman.

Hiranmayi examined them carefully and perused the traditional designs that had been painstakingly placed on Jessie's skin. "Lovely," she commented. "Lotus for beauty and grace, vines for devotion, and raindrops for the affection of a woman. Did you do these, Your Highness?"

Neela smiled. "Actually, Madhu did. She is a wonderful artist." She drew the final line carefully and set the half-full henna cone aside. "I am finished, Jessie. Let me get a mirror so that you can see the soles of your feet." She rose gracefully from her place on the floor and went into the bathroom.

While she was gone, Jessie held her legs straight out before her and inspected the tops of her feet. She saw a six pointed star in the center surrounded by tiny flowers and more vines. Along the sides of her feet were rows of wave-like lines. "Do all the designs mean something?" She asked Hiranmayi.

"No," the young actress replied, "but many of them do. The Satkona," and here she indicated the star pattern, "is the union of the feminine and masculine aspects of life. The small blossoms stand for happiness, and waves—"

"I found your hand mirror, Jessie," Neela announced as she came back into the room. "Look at what I have done and tell me what you think." She knelt before Jessie once more and angled the mirror so that Jessie could see the bottoms of her feet. In the center of each sole were a stylized swan and scorpion facing each other within a circle, forming a sort of yin-yang shape. Two concentric rings filled with alternating hatch marks surrounded the center design, and the rest of the space on her heels and the balls of her feet were filled with more vines, as well as swirls, dots, and tiny paisley designs. The bottom of each toe was decorated with a miniature crescent moon or star.

Jessie looked at Neela with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "It's really pretty, but is that a—scorpion?"

Hiranmayi and her aunt both leaned in closer to get a better look. "That is a most unusual pattern, Your Highness," Bhairavi finally commented. "Is that also the work of your maid?"

"No," Neela replied. "I designed it myself. I thought it was quite striking." She got to her feet once more. "I think I shall sketch it on a sheet of paper and have Madhu use it the next time I have my feet done. Enter," she called at the knock on the door, and smiled as Madhu entered. "Would you ladies like to have mehndi done? I'm sure Madhu would be happy to oblige, and you see how skilled she is."

Both women agreed, and Jessie reflected that the cheerful, excited chatter that followed would have made all the men in her life run for cover—even her dad, who was something of a "connoisseur of women," to put it politely. While Madhu began to draw a profusion of flowering vines around Hiranmayi's left ankle, Neela mixed up a sweet-smelling concoction of lemon juice and sugar, which she dabbed onto the designs on Jessie's hands and feet every few minutes.

"This will make the stain darker," Neela explained as she glanced over at the pattern the maid had created for the Minister's daughter. "Madhu, perhaps a butterfly above her ankle? You make beautiful butterflies."

"I think that would look very nice," Bhairavi added, nodding her head and causing her short black curls to bounce a little. She was a friendly, handsome woman on the far side of forty.

"Please, I would like that very much," Hiranmayi added sweetly, and Madhu complied.

Bhairavi began to reminisce about her bridal shower, telling the younger women that she'd had to sit virtually motionless for nearly eight hours while her female relatives applied henna paste to her feet and legs up to her knees and on her hands up to her elbows. Neela confirmed that her wedding mehndi had taken nearly that long.

Jessie looked at them a little dubiously. "I don't think I could stand that. I've been feeling fidgety for the last hour. I think I'd jump out of my skin if I tried to hold still for that long."

"It is difficult," Bhairavi agreed, "especially when one is so excited already, but all of my female relatives were there: my mother and grandmothers, my sister and cousins and all of my aunts and good friends. We talked and laughed and ate, and they teased me mercilessly about what my marriage would be like." She sighed, "It was wonderful."

_The party or your marriage? _Jessie wondered, but it didn't seem appropriate to ask, especially considering the dreamy look in Bhairavi's brown eyes.

"Did your husband find his initials in your mehndi?" Neela asked, bringing Hiranmayi's aunt back to the present.

"No, he never did, though the pattern lasted three weeks." She smiled. "Every night he looked so carefully, but he never found them." Her eyes became bright with unshed tears, and she continued softly, "He was such a gentle man. I've always suspected that he knew where they were and chose not to tell me, just so that I could have the upper hand in our marriage." She gave a watery laugh and dabbed at her eyes with a pink handkerchief she'd pulled from the pocket of her slacks. "It would have been so like him to do that."

"Aunt Bhairavi was widowed four years ago when my uncle was killed in an automobile accident," Hiranmayi said into the brief silence.

Bhairavi picked up the story. "The lorry driver who struck his car never stopped, according to witnesses, but he was arrested and convicted all the same by the Mysore police. I still miss Dayanand, but now I have my dress shop and my niece to keep me occupied."

Neela smiled softly and held her right hand out to Bhairavi. The woman took it with an expression of gratitude as Hadji's mother said, "We never really stop missing our husbands, do we? But with time, the pain becomes bearable. We can only live as worthy a life as we are able, with the hope that we will be reunited with them when our turn comes."

Jessie lowered her gaze to her lap, both touched and disconcerted by this admission from the sultan's mother. She had not realized that Neela missed the late sultan so much; after all, it had been sixteen years since his death. _Maybe Hadji recognizes this, and it's one of the reasons he feels he can't leave,_ she thought. She looked to her left and met Hiranmayi's eyes; Jessie imagined that the slightly uncomfortable expression on the actress' face mirrored her own.

Hadji's mother released Bhairavi's hand and looked toward the young women sitting next to each other on the bench, remarking, "I only hope that neither of these beautiful girls will ever understand what we are talking about."

Bhairavi nodded and touched her niece's shoulder. "I pray to all the gods that you will someday have a long and happy marriage with a man about whom you can care."

Hiranmayi blushed a little and seemed to find a great deal of interest in what Madhu was doing with the henna paste.

"Well," Neela said briskly, "we have all become a bit maudlin, have we not? Let us talk about something else—something more cheerful!"

"Well," the minister's daughter began, apparently relieved by the change of subject, "my aunt and I spent the morning shopping. I wish my father had not insisted that Tungesh accompany me yesterday. I saw almost nothing, especially with the time we spent searching—"She broke off, looking a little embarrassed. "I did not mean to be rude, Miss Bannon…"

Jessie sighed inwardly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Hiranya. And _please_, call me Jessie, both of you."

Hiranmayi gave a small smile. "Then you may call me Hiranmayi, if you wish."

"Very well," Hadji's mother interjected into the short silence. "Now, tell us about your shopping, ladies."

It was seven o'clock when Hadji knocked on Jessie's door yet again. He heard the chattering and laughter stop abruptly, and a moment later, Madhu opened the door. She tried to subdue a smile as she greeted him, but she was not entirely successful. When she stepped back into the room to let him enter, he saw that the other four women were smiling at each other. He felt, for a brief moment, as if he had just entered into an intensely female, henna-scented realm in which he was an intruder.

The four women looked at him expectantly. "Good evening, my son," Neela said serenely, not bothering to hide her smile. "Is it dinnertime already?"

"It is," he replied, "or nearly so." His gaze took in the Hiranmayi, her aunt, and his guest. All three of them had beautiful henna patterns on various parts of their bodies, although Jessie's were the most elaborate, he noticed as his gaze lingered on her. "I see you have been quite productive."

"Indeed we have," Neela confirmed. "Shall we go to dinner?" She asked as she got to her feet.

"Just a moment, Jessie," Hadji said when he saw her move to put her feet, which had been propped up on a stool, on the floor. He waited until everyone had left the room, then he crouched beside her. "Put your arms around my neck," he instructed, as he slipped his arms behind her shoulders and beneath her legs.

"Your mother said I could walk if I were careful," she protested.

"You do not want to take the chance of destroying all of the work my mother and Madhu have done, do you?" He said as he lifted her from the bench, forcing her to hold on to him for balance.

She awkwardly hooked her left arm over his shoulder to avoid getting henna paste on his soft, charcoal-colored cotton shirt, propped her right hand on her knee, then held one foot higher than the other to keep them from rubbing together. "You know how weird this is for me, right?" She asked as he moved across the room.

He paused in the center of the room and lowered his head so that his mouth was near her ear. "What I know is that this is a good way to keep up the tale that you came through yesterday's misadventure unscathed," he murmured. "It would not do for Hiranmayi or her aunt to notice—or worse, comment—on the fact that you seem to be in some amount of pain. Perhaps you do not realize how stiffly you have been moving about."

Jessie flushed—not as a result of Hadji's words, but because of the way her insides flip-flopped when his breath feathered over her skin. "I—" she began, just as Neela put her head around the door.

"What is the delay, Hadji?" She asked. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw the two young people with their heads together. "You do have guests waiting."

Hadji straightened. "We are coming, Mother," he replied as he moved to the door.

Hiranmayi and Bhairavi exchanged glances when they saw the sultan with Jessie in his arms, but they said nothing, only waited for him to precede them in the hall. Neela followed him with the two ladies beside her, and Madhu trailed behind, carrying the footstool she had retrieved from Jessie's room. As they moved silently down the corridors of the palace, Jessie had to resist the urge to squirm away from Hadji, so strong was her embarrassment at being carried by him. She peeked over Hadji's shoulder to see Hiranmayi gazing intently at the sultan's back, but the other woman looked at the floor when Jessie caught her eye.

"Hold still," Hadji said softly, as she moved back to her previous position, "or I may drop you."

She returned her gaze to his face, which was only visible to her in profile since he was watching where he was going. "You're just kidding, right?" She asked quietly as he halted a moment to shift her a bit higher in his arms.

"You would not like to find out, would you?" He whispered in reply.

"It wasn't my idea to be carted around like this," Jessie muttered, but she held still all the same.

Upon reaching the Small Dining Room, a serving man pulled out the chair to the left of the head of the ornately-inlaid dining table. Hadji placed Jessie in the chair, and Madhu arranged the footstool beneath the table so Jessie could keep her feet off the floor. Jessie was glad that no one could see how slowly she moved while she carefully propped her feet up one at a time. _Just another reminder of how important stomach muscles are, _Jessie thought. She glanced around the room, its spacious dimensions—three times the size of the Maine compound's dining room—reminding her that size was relative. She recognized the teal wall-paper with its rich navy and gold-leaf floral design and realized that she'd been here before, probably on her last visit to the palace. She took a moment to admire the dark wood crown molding along the tops of the walls and the dense navy carpeting that was punctuated with beautiful old oriental rugs. There were several oil paintings of apparently wealthy Indians hanging on the walls, but she didn't recognize any of the people. She wondered briefly if any of them were Hadji's ancestors. When she focused back on the people around her, she noticed that Neela was sitting on Hadji's right with Bhairavi beside her, and Hiranmayi had taken the seat on Jessie's left.

"I ordered the servants to set the table informally since this dinner party was not planned," Neela explained as she gestured around at the seating arrangements. "I hope none of you minds."

"Everything is lovely, Your Highness," Bhairavi replied. "I never thought to see the interior of your palace, much less have a meal here. This has been an eventful day for me."

The sultan's mother smiled gently. "You are a welcome guest, Mrs. Sarasvat." She turned and signaled to the servants as she said, "Now, let us eat."

The food, as always, was delicious. Tonight the palace kitchen had provided traditional delicacies form Karnataka. From her previous visits, Jessie knew to eat the vegetarian cuisine with her right hand only, and she held a fork carefully with her fingertips to avoid damaging the henna on her hands. She found it somewhat awkward but still doable.

Hadji kept most of his attention on Hiranmayi as they all shared a meal of vegetables in yogurt sauce, lentils and rice, and a chickpea stew that was full of wonderfully aromatic spices. Jessie did her best not to feel jealous even as she reminded herself that she had absolutely nothing to feel jealous about—really! _He's only trying to get her to reveal some kind of information, right? _She told herself as she stared at her bowl of stew. _Still, it is kind of awkward to be talked across as if I weren't here…_She came out of her thoughts with a start as something bumped the stool upon which her feet rested. She looked across the table at Neela, but the sultan's mother was deep in conversation with Bhairavi. She glanced toward Hadji as he took a bite of food, and his eyes flicked in her direction briefly before they moved back to Hiranmayi, who was apparently answering a question Hadji had asked.

"—when I told my father that I wanted to go shopping yesterday, he ordered my brother to escort me. Tungesh had already made plans for the day, but he was forced to cancel."

"It is a pity, then, that you did not get to do much shopping after we were separated from Jessie and Tungesh."

Hiranmayi shook her head. "Tungesh and I had already been out for nearly two hours when he recognized Jessie and insisted we stop to greet her." She laughed a little as she continued, "We certainly did _not_ recognize you, Your Highness." Hadji smiled at her, which she apparently took as a signal to continue talking. "To be honest with you, I did not begin to enjoy myself until we met the two of you. My brother pretends to be polite and charming when he wishes to, but when it is just the two of us, he complains often and about nearly everything…" She paused and sipped at her glass of chilled white grape juice before continuing. "Actually, I told my father that I was willing to wait until Aunt Bhairavi was available to accompany me, but he said that if I were going, I might as well have gone then." She set the cut-crystal goblet back on the table and smiled prettily as she said, "Things did not work out as I planned, but I do not mind going shopping two days in a row."

"Indeed?" Hadji prodded.

Hiranmayi glanced at Jessie. "I was alarmed when Jessie became lost and disappointed that Tungesh would not allow me to help you search for her. I overheard him speaking to my father as I passed by the study, and he told my father that your guest had been lost for hours before she was found."

"I wonder where he would have gotten such an idea," Hadji commented in a mild tone. As he gazed at the minister's daughter, his mouth curved in a small, amused smile.

Jessie said nothing, but she paid close attention while trying to appear as if she was not especially interested in what Hiranmayi was saying.

Hiranmayi, who seemed to be a little flustered at receiving such direct and uninterrupted attention from the sultan, went on in a rush, "It is apparent to me now that he must have fabricated the tale in order to avoid our father's disapproval, for we were a bit late returning home, and my father is very insistent that his wishes be followed at all times."

"Well, your brother's tale is of little consequence," Hadji said decisively. "Everything turned out well in the end." He looked around the table, and this time his smile—now open and relaxed—was directed at all of the women. "Would you ladies like to have dessert? I understand our chef has prepared gajar halwa."

_That's it?_ Jessie wondered. _That's all he's going to say? I wonder what I missed._

"I love gajar halwa," Bhairavi exclaimed over Jessie's contemplations.

"It is my favorite dessert," Neela replied

"That's something I've never had," Jessie admitted, "but I'd love to try it."

With a gesture, Hadji directed a servant to bring the last course in. Gajar halwa turned out to be a kind of carrot pudding mixed with almonds in saffron-flavored milk. It superficially resembled the carrot and raisin salad Jessie had eaten at family reunions and pot-luck picnics, but the saffron in it made it taste quite different. She decided as she observed Bhairavi and Neela eating with apparent delight that while she found the flavor pleasant, it would never replace the pleasure she got from eating a slice of Mrs. Evans' pineapple upside-down cake.

After coffee and a few more minutes of idle conversation, Hiranmayi and Bhairavi decided that they should go since it was nearing nine o'clock, and they planned to drive to Bhairavi's home in Mysore that night. Hadji directed a servant to bring the ladies' car to the entrance, and he left his chair as they all said their goodbyes.

"I had so much fun today," Hiranmayi bubbled. "I wish we could spend more time together, Jessie."

"Maybe we can," Jessie replied with a smile, "if Hadji hasn't already planned my whole week out for me! I've been told he's got a mysterious adventure set up for tomorrow, but I don't know what the rest of my week will be like. Maybe we can arrange something?" She asked, turning to look at the sultan.

"Perhaps," Hadji replied noncommittally. "Now, allow me to escort you out—"

"I will do it, my son," Neela interrupted in a serene voice. "You need to see to Jessie—I don't want her to ruin her mehndi after all the time Madhu and I put into it!"

Hadji bowed to his mother to indicate his obedience, and waited as everyone but Madhu, who stood unobtrusively near the door, left the room before he spoke again. "What would you like to do now?" He asked, his tone light.

Jessie pondered for a moment, wondering exactly how she should answer. She decided to respond in kind and answered playfully, "Well, we could play a board game…"

"You do not want to rest?" He inquired.

"Not particularly. I feel as if I've been sleeping all day—after all, I didn't really get up until noon!"

He nodded and moved around the table to stand by her side as he said, "I do not believe that we have any board games, but I do have a PlayStation 2 in my sitting room. It was my birthday gift from Jonny last year."

"No Questworld for you, huh?" Jessie asked as she smiled up at him.

He found himself inexplicably fascinated by the line of her neck and shoulder and had to quell an urge to trace it with his fingers. "There would be no point," he reminded her as he forced his eyes to meet hers, "since there is no one here who has been trained to log me on and off." He shrugged a little as he added, "Besides, I don't really have a great deal of time to spend in such pursuits."

Jessie shook her head at him. "Fun, Hadji, fun! Remember? It's something you have to make time for!" She lifted a hand to emphasize her point, then realized that she wouldn't be able to handle a game controller while she was wearing fresh mendhi.

She said as much to Hadji, who replied, "If you like, we can watch a movie instead. I have not done that for quite a while."

"Okay." She shifted in her chair in preparation to stand, but was forced to sit back when Hadji put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She looked up at him inquiringly.

"No walking, remember?" He said, then pulled her chair out and crouched down beside it.

"But—" she began.

"Put your arms around my neck," he commanded as he prepared to lift her. She complied although she wasn't especially thrilled about doing so, and after she had arranged herself much in the same way she had earlier in the evening, he proceeded to carry her from the dining room while Madhu trailed a discreet distance behind them with the footstool in her hands.

As he strode down the hall, she looked at his face and admired his profile before commenting, "This really isn't necessary, you know. I _can _walk, and I would actually—" Jessie broke off when Hadji stopped suddenly and turned his gaze to hers.

One corner of his mouth was turned up with amusement as he said, "Perhaps _I_ am enjoying this, Jessie. You know—_fun_." His smile softened, and he gazed affectionately at her for just a moment before looking away.

Jessie was rendered speechless, her mind a complete blank. She could do nothing for a good few minutes but stare at Hadji as he resumed the walk to his quarters.

Hadji did not look at her again as he moved, but he commented thoughtfully, "I am reminded of when Emerson said, 'no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.'"

"Ooo-kay…" Jessie said, raising one eyebrow. "I don't get how I'm helping you, especially when I don't _really_ need you to do this for me, but…um…okay…"

Hadji laughed, starting to realize, if only just a little, why Jonny delighted in teasing Jessie so much. They had reached his quarters, and he paused while Madhu opened the door for him so that he could carry Jessie into his sitting room. Surprisingly, it was decorated in Swedish contemporary in a palette of cool blues and grays, but it still retained something of the exotic courtesy of the arched windows and doorframes and the mosaic tile work around these apertures. Hadji walked across the room and placed his guest gently on an overstuffed navy blue suede sofa that occupied what looked to be the exact center of the room and which faced the large, blocky television cabinet. He didn't release her immediately, interrupting her thoughts when he remarked, "Emerson also said, 'Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not.'"

Jessie's cheeks turned pink yet again, but she didn't pretend to misunderstand him. Meeting his eyes, she said, "I'm… pretty sure he didn't mean that literally…"

He bestowed her with a playful, almost _wicked_ smile and replied, "It is generally agreed that the words of literary men, especially poets and philosophers, are open to interpretation."

"I—um…" She faltered under the force of his regard and decided to change the subject. "What do you think about the conversation Hiranmayi said she overheard?"

Releasing her at last, Hadji sank down into the soft, puffy cushions at the opposite end of the sofa and draped his left arm over the back of it as he turned to face her. The notion that he would rather put his arm—or better yet, both arms—around _her_ crossed his mind, but he squashed it ruthlessly. Even though she seemed uncomfortable with his teasing, he could not seem to help himself. He supposed it was because he had never before had any inclination to flirt with her during all the years that he had known her, and if he were honest with himself, it was probably not the best idea for him to do so now. He watched silently, to all appearances at his ease, as Madhu settled Jessie with the footstool once more. Then the maid drew a small white pill bottle from one of the folds of her pink cotton sari and offered it to the sultan.

The doctor said these would ease her pain and help her rest, Madhu explained in Hindu.

Hadji took them with a nod. I will see Jessie to her room later, he answered in the same language, which Madhu correctly interpreted as a command to leave them alone. As the maid left the room, Hadji focused on Jessie's face and saw that she was looking at him expectantly. "She gave me your medication," he explained as he examined the label, and then he raised his eyes to hers with a smile. "Why did she give them to me, I wonder? Have you been giving her a difficult time?"

Jessie looked at her lap as a slightly guilty expression settled on her face. "I don't like them." Realizing how childish that sounded, she went on to clarify, "They take the pain away, but they make me feel sleepy. I don't know why, but I can't help feeling like I want to stay alert, even though I know I'm safe here."

"That is a natural reaction," Hadji agreed, "but I promise that you are safe within the palace walls. Now," he continued, adopting a stern expression, "I believe you should follow the doctor's orders. Are you in any pain?"

"A little," she admitted grudgingly, from which Hadji discerned that she was suffering a great deal more discomfort than she was letting on.

"Then take one so that you will have an excuse if you fall asleep, and I will not have to admit that I am a less-than-engrossing conversationalist."

Jessie laughed, then pressed a hand against her sore stomach. "That wasn't very nice," she complained, but she held her other hand out for the pills and said no more about it as she swallowed one tablet with the help of some bottled water Hadji pulled from a small mini-fridge that was hidden in a cabinet near his apparently unused desk. She then sat back with a sigh and reminded him that he hadn't answered her earlier question.

"I think," he replied, "that Hiranmayi told us the truth. I especially agree with the comments she made about her brother's character. What I cannot decide is _why_ she said what she said. Is she trying to implicate her father and brother in some sort of conspiracy, or is she merely carelessly repeating what she heard? Furthermore, could it really be a coincidence that Tungesh claimed you were lost '_for hours'_ in the city only as an excuse for being late?" Hadji paused and rubbed his chin with his thumb as he thought. "I wish we could know the rest of Tungesh's conversation with his father."

"Yeah, it's too bad that Hiranmayi didn't hear the rest of what they said," Jessie commented.

"What makes you think that she did not?" Hadji queried. "I do not recall her saying that she had not or could not have heard more."

Jessie nibbled her bottom lip as she thought back to what she'd heard at dinner. "You're right. So," she continued, shifting a little in her spot on the sofa, "is she clueless or just a very good actress?"

"You know, I have no idea," he replied, "never having watched the program she appears in, but I have long believed that Hiranmayi is not as unintelligent as she appears to be. Still, the situation bears looking into. I plan to have a brief interview with Tungesh when I go into work tomorrow, and I may talk with Minister Hiranya as well. We shall see what happens then."

"I'll keep my eyes open, too," Jessie said. "I would really like a chance to spend some time alone with her, but I don't know how we could arrange it."

"There really is not much time since you will be here only four more days." Hadji felt sad as he realized how soon she would be leaving him, and he decided at that moment that he would not let another eighteen months pass before he saw her again. "There may not even be much of a point. I cannot believe that there is anything more sinister to this situation than, perhaps, pointless youthful malice, in which case I would not expect anything else to go wrong. I do not see what kind of motive someone might have to target you in such a way."

Jessie, remembering the look of disgust on Tungesh's face as he'd shouted at her, nodded her head. Hadji was probably right, and what she'd been through was only a result of coincidence combined with the bad attitude of a teenage boy. "I don't see it either. I don't have any enemies in this neck of the woods as far as I know," she said, only half-jokingly.

Hadji got up from the couch and opened the television cabinet. "What do you think of her now that you've spent some time with her?" He asked, his back to her.

"I like her a lot, to be honest with you," answered Jessie, looking around as she spoke. She had never been in this room, and while she found the décor to be soothing, it also seemed rather impersonal. There were no photographs on the white walls, and none of the pale wood surfaces seemed to have anything more than vases or bowls of flowers on them. She felt as if she'd walked into a hotel room. She compared it to his room back home and reflected that, while his old room was always neat, it definitely looked lived in. _Come to think of it, _she mused,_ I don't think he took all that much with him when he left us._ "I think she's sweet and _very_ eager-to-please, and it was amazing to me how she blossomed when she was away from her father." Jessie looked away from Hadji and toward the door to the balcony.

"I have also noticed that," Hadji replied as he picked through a shelf full of DVDs. "What do you want to see?"

"Something funny. I don't care what, as long as it's not stupid funny," Jessie said.

"As you wish," He answered as he turned around, a DVD case in his hand. He showed her the cover and she laughed with pleasure as she saw the title was The Princess Bride.

"I love that movie! I can't believe you have a copy!"

Hadji smiled as he turned to put the movie in the player. "There is no rule that I know of that says a man cannot enjoy a movie that has 'princess' in the title. My favorite part has always been the sword fight at the top of the cliff." He started the movie, then settled back in his place on the couch to watch it.

Three-quarters of the way through the movie, during which the pair shared observations and opinions about the various characters and situations, Jessie fell asleep, so Hadji scooped her up and carried her to her room, for once without any protests on her part. When he placed her on her bed under the watchful eyes of Madhu, Jessie rolled to her side, and Hadji got a good look at the soles of her feet for the first time that day. The swan-and-scorpion design caught his eye immediately, and he was a little puzzled by it at first. He leaned in for a closer look, but Madhu began shooing him, so he left Jessie's room, pondering the symbolism of the pattern on her feet while he walked. He sighed softly when he recalled that the swan a symbol of success and the scorpion stood for romantic love, equivalent to the Cupid's Arrow. _To whom are you sending a message, Mother?_ He mused. Shaking his head, his went back to his rooms and got ready to go to sleep.

Showered and dressed in thin cotton pajamas in a soothing deep green color, Hadji sat on the edge of his huge, carved, teak four-poster bed, and, as he did every night, picked up the photograph that rested on the night table. It was a group photograph of himself, Jonny, and Jessie taken during one or another of their family camping trips when they were all still in high school. His gaze lingered on the smiling image of Jessie, who had not even been old enough to drive when the picture had been taken. _I want to remember her as she is now_, he thought, and made a mental note to bring his camera with him tomorrow. Replacing the picture on the carved and inlaid nightstand, he lay down and slept.

Author's Note: At long last, I have completed another chapter. I'd like to apologize for the long delay to anyone who's been waiting for an update, although after all this time, I don't imagine there are many of you left. My life has changed so much in the last couple of years that this just had to be put on the back burner, but I never forgot about it. I won't go into detail about all the things that have happened, but the biggest (and by far the best) is that my husband and I now have a son—who is soon to be a year old—and for any of you who have children, you know what an adjustment that is!

But to get back to the point, in addition to finishing this chapter, which had been half-written for a couple of years, I've spent the last few months picking up on my research, doing some moderate revisions to strengthen plotlines and increase the authenticity and depth of the descriptions and doing a great deal of polishing to improve flow and clarity, so I suggest that past readers start from the beginning to see what's different. Of course, it's been so long that most of you will have to do that anyway, just to remember what's already happened!

I can't make any promises as to when Chapter Nine is going to be out, but please believe me when I say that I'll get it done as soon as I can. I have a couple of excellent pre-readers (if that's the correct term?) whose eagerness is helping me to keep on top of this, so I don't foresee that I'll drop the ball again (unless I have absolutely no other choice—stuff happens, you know?)

It has been a long time, but I'd still like to offer a !Thank You! to everyone who reviewed Chapter Seven: Morgan Skye, Chihuahua, renisanz, Wenxina, Palin 1, Echo, Andrea, Kris Davis, Jema, jawdm, Awed and waiting for more (no joke!), big fan, Scarlet Azalea, dianna, Thorn on a Rose, and finally, DangerSwitch. I didn't realize how long that list was! Wow, you guys, you're all so great!


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